#let's just say they would not have held up to whatever year the fallout games take place

[todaysdocument]

Stocking the Fallout Shelter, Villa Augustina Academy, Goffstown, New Hampshire, on January 22, 1963. 

Record Group 77: Records of the Office of the Chief of Engineers

Series: Construction Project Photographs

Image description: Two serious men in suits and eyeglasses hold up a box labeled “SURVIVAL SUPPLIES FURNISHED BY OFFICE OF CIVIL DEFENSE DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE / CIVIL DEFENSE SURVIVAL RATION CRACKER CONTENTS 28.5 POUNDS NO. OF FRACKERS PER POUND 89 MINIMUM DATE OF PACK 17 OCT 1962”. There are half a dozen similar boxes stacked in the foreground. Next to the men, two nuns hold a sign with the three-triangles-in-a-circle fallout shelter sign.

[onewomancitadel]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard Spoilers: Beware:

Ok, honest feelings, I actually find the writing so awful (from both a structural perspective to the atomic dialogue level) I have not been able to sit through a playthrough of Veilguard let alone hold onto any intention of playing it myself. There are brief moments of joy when Solas is onscreen and allowed to be a character. Broadly I find the resolutions of his character clunky and genuinely question my own interpretation of the lore at some points whilst long-held fantheories are confirmed, so it feels sloppy, and doing what it can where it thinks it needs to do things - it has the fingerprints of a disaster crew. The fact that many major revelations are relegated to idle side content where I have to listen to the most uninteresting and banal characters possibly conceived offer their thoughtless and heedless commentary almost as if directed at me is a monumentally bad idea obviously a product of trying to reconcile a reboot answering questions to a fifteen year old franchise.

And that there is the real struggle. I would think that any competent writer would recognise that this is an impossible task and most of the PR surrounding the game has tried to cover up this fact (including the fact only three choices carrying over had to be leaked and was a disaster when it was; reasons I never listen to what creators say ever). I don't intend to point the blame anywhere - whether it's brought on by internal mismanagement or external mismanagement is not a fallout I want to examine - and the fact that they delivered a mostly complete game on release is nothing short of miraculous. As a technological achievement it can be viewed impressively. If we turn our face to the new desired audience - many casual players are enjoying it - they got what they wanted.

I just don't necessarily think this is the way and I don't think casual enjoyment is in inherent conflict with a thoughtful story and a unique identity. You can eat your cake and have it too. Honestly I wonder how much this really is about damage control when it's fronted as a plea against a series becoming dumber.

The writing strikes me as tonally inconsistent not just with the DA series but with itself: it can never quite strike the right tenor, find its identity. It might register as passably good to somebody who generally does not pay attention to dialogue or structural questions of a story or consistency; if your attention to narrative is "character say thing, big thing happen, wow, character say another thing, very interesting, wow character sad?" then it gets the job done in that respect as a simulacrum of how story should function - and it feels just like that - story as simulcrum, companions as simulacra, like a bad parody of a role-playing game. Its greatest crime is that it doesn't believe in itself, or it can't believe in itself. It has fluttering personae it tries and fails to adopt - and for whatever people point to as its failing, that it's too direct, that it's clumsy, millennial, commercial, not fantastical, too casual, short, aborted, rushed, not Dragon Age, not serious, not mean, no conflict - these are descriptions that don't quite get to the root of the problem: I don't know what Veilguard wants other than you to believe that it's supposed to be a good story. This is why so much of it is compromised. Even right down to the things that should cater to me. Whom can you possibly win over in trying to win over everyone? If you want to be loved, you have to be prepared to accept hatred. I think this is why the series' apparent flaws have been smoothed over; this is why you're not allowed to hate the characters because they want you to love them; this is why there can't be evil, because evil is uncomfortable and sometimes it has no simple solutions.

But by no means is this a professional review or an opinion that should shape yours; mine's not enough to wreck anybody else's enjoyment. I write this from the domain of my Tumblr blog where for many years I have on-again and off-again ruminated on the dinan'shiral, and so really just want to emotionally close that chapter. I have seen all the endings, I've watched most of the cameos, I've seen most of the companions and their storylines, certain sidequests aforementioned, and parts of the main story including the beginning and last quests, but not the front to end as one complete body, and so it makes it difficult to criticise structurally and in terms of pacing as a comprehensive narrative - most of all I do not want to be disingenuous as certain members of a certain fandom I am a member of are in the manner in which they critique a show that they do not watch because they regurgitate opinions of others. Mine has been formulated in independent rumination, and I've sat on it a while to see if my feelings change. The fact I physically cannot stand to watch anymore is the reason I wrote this post.

I did notice that parts of the story feel rushed and even sometimes the editing is weird, and the fresco memories are completely bizarre given they're such huge confirmations (!), which is not the end of the world considering video game writing and RPG writing is allowed to be pulpy and a bit weird, but this doesn't feel like it has a consistent tone of singular weirdness. The companion writing - toothless, forgettable, anodyne, pacifying, childish - has of course at length been remarked upon, and many of my posts about bathos have been implicitly directed at it. I played Johnson & Friends music over companion conversations - any children's show would do here - and it did feel about as complex as Johnson and Diesel arguing with each other.

It feels catered towards an audience who views narrative conflict as offensive (because they're unfamiliar with the body of narrative convention), which I find hilarious considering this is the very audience that hates Solas' guts but are forced to play a game where he survives in every single ending. I am ideologically consistent in that even if I get what I want, I want it to be narratively consistent, and honestly I am just really numb to the Solavellan ending. I don't care. But it is promising at least to see a group of writers who did not commit to death-by-redemption. But on the other hand, I also wonder how much that has to do with the fact that the ending is extremely cheap and clunky, and there isn't room for a Solas boss fight because it wasn't in the budget, and this way you get different endings that roughly play out in the same manner.

I cannot stop laughing every time I remember the "dead all along" companion. Dumbest twist ever. Hilarious. Completely campy. The horror of a blood magic meat puppet cannot be expounded in this story. Nothing is allowed to hurt. It doesn't fucking mean anythinggggggg.

As an actual game I have accepted that I'm a weirdo who hates particle explosion games. That was never going to appeal to me. Ensnaring my actual narrative attention with Solas was just cruel though. I liked DA, I liked some RPG's, I thought that they were fun and unique storytelling experiences even if they're a little silly - sometimes you want that pulpy experience - but maybe my cold comfort is watching game reviewers say Solas was their favourite part even when they didn't like anything else. 🥰

Steals your dagger. That's the end of the post; I just cut it off. Wait! Wait! Arrakis teaches the attitude of the knife―

[nikomedes]

it is 4am so whatever but. that poll about game PCs becoming OCs ur rly into blew up my whole spot. i was SUCH an OC hater from ages 13-19 for no reason, i just had this superiority complex like “why would u make a character without it being for a story (or ttrpg). just to have a doll to play with? i, a Storyteller, know the only worthy context in which to Make a Guy is in an original story that shapes them and is shaped by them in turn. STOP having fun.” i made OCs but i was SO scrupulous and bothered about having them be attached to original short stories i wrote

and then around 19 i started writing mass effect fic with shep/liara in a no reapers AU, in my spiral notebooks for class. i still have this somewhere, just a sheaf of paper i hand-numbered so i know there was a good 30-some pages of this fic, and mentally i was still going “my shep is a character in the context of a story still. im not weird. this isn’t weird.” and having OCs period isn’t weird but i was so worried

and then like… it must have been 2014. that was dragon age: inquisition and fallout 4 the same year. blew the damn doors off my joint. i only wrote one thing for da:i but i wrote ASSLOADS for f4. (my pet theory there being that da:i had enough compelling story content that i just wanted to fill in the edges, whereas f4’s story sucked so bad i couldnt help but try rehabilitating it with three different OCs and, i just counted, 45 pages of fic.)

in the years since as ive replayed things and let go of that weird teenage hangup, ive written so much. and its i would say 80% unposted. its just been for me. but i can say 100% that it made me enjoy the games more to bring that much story into it. i just checked my folders and ive written something about an OC for almost everything in that poll, with my lone wanderer of fallout ruling the roost at 20k words for his detailed outline and written story. add also pokemon to that list, for whatever reason. (the big pieces are for swsh and im putting that down to the f4 phenomenon again bc boy even for a pokemon game, those games are story light.) and im not fucked up about any of it. EXCEPT

EXCEPT

todd’s terrible trick. where he made a game so bad, but i was able to make such a huge, thick woman with the CHEF origin, that i put 20 hrs and this many words into the utter lack of game that is starfield

im so glad i 1) did not pay for it and 2) stopped playing, bc that game turned into such a nothing burger that if my usual decent base game story to fanfic ratio held, i would even now be 200 pages deep in a doorstopper novel about this space chef’s rich internal life

[underkita-archive]

cotton

miya atsumu | w.c 1.3k

a/n: hesitant to call this x reader as well so i won’t </3 but this is the companion piece to polyester and it’s more of just atsumu’s perspective! it felt necessary ffksjdfh and i listened to a lot of feelings are fatal by mxmtoon while writing this <//3 sorry </3

set post time-skip

warnings: unrequited feelings/love, miki trying to use past tense, again, angst

Miya Atsumu fell in love in his first year of high school on Valentine’s Day. 

His brother would argue that it had happened long before that, but what does he really know? 

He fell in love the second your hands brushed against his with a shy smile as you placed homemade chocolates on his desk before running out of the classroom to chase after your friends.

They shouldn’t have been special, the entire team received the exact same treats from you, although Kita’s box had a few more pieces, which you argued was due to him being the most helpful before and after practice. But that was neither here nor there, because Miya Atsumu was head over heels, pitifully, in love. 

And he wouldn’t shut up about it.

Night after night he lamented to Osamu about their pretty little manager with her kind smile and strong presence. How she was the smartest girl he’d ever met, the way she didn’t flinch when he was too loud and occasionally laughed at his lame jokes. The only thing that he had kept to himself was the way there was a fire in your eyes that made his heart pound, that every second where your gaze would hold his only sent him further towards the edge. 

“Then tell her, and more importantly shut up.” Osamu had hissed in the darkness of their room. 

It was easy for Osamu to say. He didn’t know what Atsumu did, he didn’t see what Atsumu saw. And for someone who was always a little too consumed by his sport, when it came to you, it was the first time he could clearly see outside of it. 

The way you looked at Kita Shinsuke held no secrets, for the way you looked at Kita Shinsuke was surely the way he looked at you. 

It had been a bitter realization that had left him pouting and glaring at his teammate in that special petulant way that he had perfected with Osamu. It hadn’t made an inkling of sense. Kita wasn’t the best on the court, he wasn’t even a starter nor did he ever really play in games.

The adoring look in your eyes spoke volumes, it made Atsumu’s head spin with envy and confusion and he wanted to hate Kita more than anything. 

But how could he? As time went on he couldn’t help but feel the pain in your heart was his own. There was something profoundly sad in the way you held yourself when Kita was around, stricken so deeply with something far too intense for a high schooler to truly grasp. 

Despite the pang in his own chest, he had found himself supporting you in your feelings, hoping you would find the courage to confess, hoping that you would gain the happiness you had deserved. Even if it wasn’t with him.

He held onto his feelings tightly, careful not to let any lingering touches or stern commands throughout the years mean anything more than the concerns of a caring team manager.

If he let himself be selfish he found himself consumed, tormented by the possibilities of if you could ever look at him the way you looked at Kita. 

After Kita graduated he had fooled himself into thinking he had a chance, strolling up to you at the end of practice with his chest puffed and the title of captain tacked onto his name instead. The distant look in your eyes had stopped him dead in his tracks, your eyes had moved over the players searching for someone who wouldn’t step foot in that gym again, not like before.

He resigned himself after that, officially dashing away any thought of a confession or returned sentiment. Watched in silence as your final year together ticked by a little too fast, keeping his second button tucked in his jacket pocket as you parted ways.

-

The text detailing an invitation to an engagement celebration doesn’t come as a surprise to Atsumu. He had already heard from Osamu, who heard from Suna, from Gin, from Aran that Kita has been planning on proposing to his girlfriend. 

His thoughts immediately drift to you. Since graduation there had been sparse communication, consistent birthday and happy holiday wishes, along with the occasional emojis thrown back and forth and the one time you had found a picture of him sleeping with Suna and Osamu scribbling furiously on his face. 

He’s gotten over you, he swears it. And he’s sure you’re over Kita at this point, preparing himself to see you stroll in with someone of your own. So he gets ready for the night, texts Osamu at least three maybe twenty times to hurry up. 

He walks in with his brother in tow, head held high and his people winning —shit-eating according to Osamu—grin on his face. The second he sees you it hits him like one of Kageyama’s serves to the face. Three years later you look just different enough to show growth, just enough to be a little wiser, a little bolder but not enough to hide that what you feel for Kita really hasn’t changed.

It makes him feel nostalgic, bitter, yet nostalgic.  

Throughout the night his eyes keep sliding back over you, watching as you smile so easily without a hint of joy, how you laugh and joke and avert your eyes from the ring sparkling on the fourth finger of the woman cuddled up next to Kita. He sees it all and says nothing as he downs another beer. 

It’s by the time there’s practically a rain cloud hanging over your head and a look of utter defeat in your eyes that he finally takes pity on you. Opening his mouth to spew whatever comes to mind first and grabbing at your wrist, hauling you out of your seat. 

When you protest he barely makes note of it, keeping his eye on the door of the restaurant as he pulls you along. You shaking out of his hold was something he was prepared for, about to snatch your wrist once more when the determined look in your eyes stops him in his tracks. 

“Congratulations Kita-san. I wish you both... I wish you both unending happiness.”

It’s such a genuine statement, it hurts him to hear it. He can barely fathom the pain that uttering it brings you as you twist around on your heel and stalk past him. 

He knows there’s no point in calling after you or in telling you to slow down when he’ll easily catch up in seconds. You don’t jump when his hand lands on your shoulder, simply stopping the second he makes contact. He braces himself for the fallout, for you to tell him to shove off and disappear.

“It hurts.”

And he holds back a wry chuckle as you fall apart before him. Because yeah, it does.

There’s a part of him that feels vindicated as you touch your forehead to his chest, sobs wracking through your body as he shifts his hand to press between your shoulder blades. He should feel guilty, he should feel pity maybe, but the cruel part of him feels like he’s won. 

Won against you, won against Kita. 

The feeling fades quick, because he’s lost more than he’s ever gained in the past six years.

It’s not the right time or the right place, but Miya Atsumu was never patient, in fact it had always amazed him that he was able to hold back for so long.

“Could you… consider me?”

His voice comes out softer than he intended, his words far more unsure. He watches with his heart in his throat as a wave of emotions shifts through your expression.

There’s a few more words passed back and forth, and he knows he sounds desperate, only reminded of just how wrong the timing is. But he can see it, that slight shift, a lifting of a veil, a door cracking open and it gives him hope. 

For once in his life when it comes to you, he lets himself hope.

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

Fallout of the century 🌑💔

Part 5 

Read part   1   |   2   |   3  |   4   | Here.

Warnings: None this is like pure fluffy goodness. 

Word count: 2.8k

masterlist

This is the end. I hope you enjoyed this, i know i did.

I stood smoothing out the front of the dress in the full length mirror. Nikki was behind me adjusting the strings on the corset. “Is it too tight darling?” she asked me. 

“It's perfect,” I told her, a smile on my face that had not faded at all since I woke up that morning.

 “You look so pretty mummy,” Rosie exclaimed running towards me in her little gold dress. 

“Thank you baby. Can I fix this?” I asked her, gesturing to the back of her dresses that she had sloppily tried to tie up. She nodded and turned around for me to fix it. 

“Grandma, doesn't mummy look pretty?” she asked Nikki. 

“She looks gorgeous, she does,” Nikki said, kissing her on the top of her head, and giving me a smile. 

“We're ready,” my coworker and close friend Lindsey told me. I looked myself over in the mirror once more before heading to the garden. 

We had chosen to have a small ceremony, just our families and our closest friends, which somehow still ended up being sixty plus people. The Hollands had gone out of there way decorating the outside of their house, transforming the garden into a fairy tale like scene, it looked straight out of a movie. 

I watched as the bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way down the aisle. I looked up to see Tuwaine waiting for me, his arm ready to take mine as he led me down the aisle to the man I was about to marry. 

“Thank you for doing this,” I whispered. 

“Are you kidding? I am honored,” and with that we began to walk to the slightly crowded garden. 

As soon as I stepped out of the door, my eyes met his. He stood tall, his hair freshly cut, but still curly on top of his head. The sun was shining just right, making his hair shine an even more vibrant hue of red than usual. He looked stunning in the black suite that he wore with the pop of a gold tie. He smiled at me, a smile I had seen so many times before, but it felt as though I was seeing it for the first time ever. The closer I got the more his features came into focus, his warm brown eyes held a shimmer of gold and his freckles that were scattered on his face seemed to make him look even more handsome. I glanced at his birthmark on the corner of his mouth that I had fallen in love with. I stopped about four feet away from him, My heart nearly stopping as I saw him, having to catch his breath as he looked me over. 

He stepped forward grabbing my hand as I joined him on the little step the boys had built for today. 

With my hand in his we stood side by side as Sam stood in front of us ready to officiate the special day. 

“Hi,” Sam spoke, grabbing his little leather notebook from his pocket. “I'm a little nervous, so bare with me,” He mumbled. He glanced up to me and I gave him a comforting smile. 

“Are you ready for this? Mrs.Holland?” Harry whispered in my ear while his twin scrambled to start the ceremony.

“As ready as I was the first time Mr.Holland,” I whispered back Squeezing his hand tightly.

“OK, We have gathered her today, well i mean i think  we all know why we're here, am i right?” he asked lightheartedly.

There was a wave of laughs from behind where Harry and I stood and I could instantly see Sam relax. 

“So when my brother and y/n asked me to do this, I was excited, until I started looking into it. Way too much effort, but regardless I did all that I had to, to make sure at the end of the day these to actually get married,” he winked at me, knowing something all the others didn't, before continuing. “Harry and Y/N are the kind of people who just clicked upon meeting, everything between them happened nearly effortlessly, and though there was a time when we were not sure we'd see this day, i think i speak for everyone when i say, i'm glad it's finally here,” Sam looked over to Tom who reached into his pocket, grabbing a folded up paper and handed it to Harry. “I'm going to let them share their vows, and then we will get to it,” Sam stepped back as Harry turned to face me. He unfolded the paper in his hand and looked up to my face, giving me one last smile. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, I’m standing here today, in front of you not knowing what tomorrow holds, not knowing where we will end up in the years to come, but knowing whatever and wherever it is, i want to be by your side.” he took a deep breath as he crumpled the page and shoved it into his pocket, flashing me his boyish smile. “I've always known this day would come, nothing we ever went through made me think otherwise. In the end it would always be us, I'm just glad it was sooner than later, I'll love you everyday for the rest of my life, the good and bad days. And I can't wait forever with you,” He grabbed my hands, lifting one to his mouth and kissing it. I turned to look at Harrison who was standing directly behind me. He handed me the note cards and I turned back to Harry.

“Harry Robert Holland, where to begin? I feel Like I've loved you all my life. I've known we were made for each other since that day in the pub when you bought me a drink. I've always admired you, the love you give, the care you offer, the way you are with Rosie. I'm not entirely sure how I became so lucky to have you in my life, but here we are. Today, tomorrow, forever.”  I turned back to Harrison giving him back the cards and then nodding at Sam, who quickly stepped back up. 

“Alright, are you guys ready for this?” He asked us. We both nodded. “OK, Harry, are you ready to spend the rest of your days with Y/N?” 

“I am,” Harry responded.

“And are you ready to spend the rest of your days putting up with my brother?” Harry swatted at Sam who jumped back laughing.

“Every day of my life,” I said, squeezing Harry's other hand. 

“OK, then by the power vested in me, by a sketchy website I found on the internet, I now pronounce you married. You can kiss now.” And neither of us needed to be told twice. Harry pulled me into his arms, pushing our lips together in a deep passionate kiss. There were cheers from behind us that the intensity of the kiss drowned out. It was like no one was there, nothing mastered, except for us, and this moment. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We sat at the table, enjoying watching everyone have a good time when Harrison stood up and started to clink his spoon to his glass. 

“I'd like everyone's attention,” He started smiling at Harry and I “As the Man of Honor, I have prepared a rather lengthy and emotional speech. So, sit down and get the tissues ready,” there was a rumbling of laughter from everyone as he pulled out some note cards. “So, about ten years ago. A girl met a boy in a pub, and slowly they fell in love. The kind of love that changes you, and teaches you. The kind of love that is hard, and dirty, and not always beautiful. These two kids met at the young age of 18, never experiencing life before, and decided then and there, to experience it together. And it was a journey. These two, they absolutely destroyed each other,” Harrison glanced at us, to see us both shocked at his speech. “But it was a necessary destruction. There were mistakes made, secrets kept, and lives that had not been lived. They spent a total of two and half years apart before finding their way back to each other. Y/N traveled for a year, tending to the less fortunate, and living out a lifelong dream. While Harry became a dad to little Rosie Holland, and became one of the best men i have ever met. These two went through the fallout of the century, just to become even stronger in the end. I am blessed to be a part of their story. To have been there from the beginning, and seeing it through to, not the end, but the newest chapter. I love you both, and I wish you a lifetime of love and happiness, Y/N (peanut) Holland, and Harry Holland, congratulations.” The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as Harrison raised his glass before downing his glass of champagne. There was barely any time before Tom stood up, clinking his knife to his glass.

 “I did not prepare a long emotional speech, but I do have a few things to say,” He patted Harry on the shoulder before pulling out a page, with a speech obviously written on it, causing me to erupt in a fit of laughter. “Okay, okay. Settle down everyone. I met y/n about a month before Harry. Sorry buddy,” He winked at his brother, who just groaned and shook his head. “And I knew there was something about her, and looking back, I realized how much she reminded me of my younger brother here. So it was no surprise when I started seeing her more, on my brother's arm out at the pubs. Which soon became family dinners, and game nights, and soon she became a part of our group, even went as far to steal my best friend Harrison from me, Not cool nutty, not cool. But things seemed to go so easily, and then after they broke up, it felt like a piece of our group chipped away, neither of them made any of us choose sides, but with such an ugly break up it became a little ugly. So when I tell you how relieved I was when these two got back together, I'm not exaggerating. I'm so glad to call you my sister, and I'm so glad for my brother to call you his wife. You two were made for each other, and I love you both.” The crowd started to cheer again at the close of Tom's speech, and it was time for Harry and I to speak.

Harry stood up and lifted his arms for everyone to be quiet. “I want to thank you all for coming today, um it is true, that this day has been a long time coming and the journey here was a long one. But it was worth every sleepless night, every fight, every little thing it took to get here, it was all worth it. I've known since the day I met this girl, I wanted to be her husband, and despite everything, that never changed. We were kids when we met, and we quickly became young and dumb in love, not realizing what forever meant, and now sitting here today, i wouldn't change a thing, because at the end of the day, i still got to marry her, no matter what stupid things i may have done, or not done. I love you so much, Peanut, and I'll never stop loving you, as long as I live.” I stood up, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss, in front of all our friends and families. 

I let go of him and gave him a smile before turning to everyone in front of us, “I, um, we have a confession to make,” I looked to Harry who nodded, looking at me in awe. “We did not get married today, this was all a show that we put on, for us and for you,” There was a wave of gasps and ‘whats?’ from everyone. “I know, I know. I do have a very good explanation though,” I took a deep breath before continuing, “So as many of you know, or all of you, Harry has a little girl, Little Rosie. She's the sweetest little peanut I've ever laid my eyes on, and I've known her since the day she was born, and for the past three years, I have stepped up and into the role of her mom, since the biological one walked away and sighed her away. I have been there for every little thing since then, making sure she knew that she had me forever. I have kissed every boo boo, mended every broken heart over the silly things her five year old self gets upset over, and I have become so much more than just her dad's girlfriend. She knows that I didn't give birth to her, and she knows that she does have a mom out there somewhere, we have never hid that from her, and about seven months ago she had asked if I would be her mom. Which was an emotional thing for me, I was wrecked, like a blubbering, sobbing, snotty mess. So Harry and I started to talk about me potentially adopting her, and there were a few hoops we had to jump through before being able to do it. One of which was to be married. So about five and a half months ago we went to the court house and got married, and then started the adoption process. Which is also what influenced us to buy the house. So we have been married for almost six months.” I looked around at all the shocked faces, some seemed to be more accepting of the news than others. I had known that this was probably going to be the reaction to this news, so I wasn't surprised. 

“You look nervous,” Harry said as we stood in the hallway of the courthouse. 

“What if they don’t think I'm good enough to be her mom?” I blurted out, causing Harry to smile at me.

“Lovie, i don't care what the court says, you are Rosie’s mom, More so than Olivia ever was. You stepped up after Olivia left, before we had even considered getting back together, you taught me how to do her hair, and how to make her favorite foods, you babysat her countless times while I was at work late or had to run errands, with no expectation. Just because you loved her enough to be there, for her, for us.” he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my nose as the courtroom door opened. 

“Case of Rosie Holland,” The man said. You stood straight up adjusting your skirt looking at Harry.

“Lets go get your name on that birth certificate, yeah?” He whispered as he led me into the room.

“We're sorry for misleading any of you,” Harry said, squeezing my side. “But we still wanted the ceremony, despite us already being married, and we wanted all of you here for the announcement,” He stopped and looked at me, raising his brows waiting for me to speak. 

“As of three weeks ago, I am Officially Rosie Holland's mom,” I grabbed the amended birth certificate that had my name in the space where it said mother and handed it to Tom to hand to his mother. 

“Well i think we could cheers to that,” Harrison announced “Let's get the bride and new mom a glass of champagne,” 

“That's actually not the end of the announcement,” Harry spoke up. Causing everyone to grow quiet again. Harry reached over, placing one hand on your belly before continuing. “We thought Rosie could use a sibling.” There was an almost in sync gasp from everyone around us before the cheering began again. “Little Stanley Holland will be here in about six months,” I watched Tom as Harry said that, his eyes grew wide before glossing over.

“Really?” He choked out.

“Really, really,” I told him.

The night went on, everyone partied and enjoyed the food, ushering the two of you off at the end of the night to your honeymoon. we arrived home grabbing your pre-packed bags and heading for the airport to board your flight. The flight itself was fine, and by the time we landed in Hawaii I had been asleep most of the flight.

“Lovie, we're here,” Harry whispered, bringing me out of my sleep, it seemed with life growing inside my belly all i ever wanted to do was eat and sleep. 

“I'm hungry,” I groaned as I got up from the seat. He led me from the plane and into the airport.

“What do you want to eat?” He asked me.

I stared at him for a minute before answering “A peanut butter sandwich,” 

“Of course you do,” He laughed rubbing my barely swollen belly.

[nikosarc]

break my soul in two looking for you (but you’re right here)

hello here’s a silent knight drabble because i’m weak. pls be nice i’ve never written for neo and the last time i wrote for jaune was a thousand years ago, it’s not good but i did my best dammit. title comes from the song coney island by taylor swift.

It was getting a bit too crowded in the belly of this demon whale for Neo’s liking. Salem’s faction had already been larger than the mute girl had been anticipating. That in itself was irritating – going from Cinder’s partner to another cog in Salem’s machine, an “asset” didn’t sit right with Neo. Then came the young boy Salem called “Ozma.” Neo had to shut her ears and eyes to his torture on a daily basis. She’d give the kid this – his will was strong.  

Next one of the guys she’d fought when she’d stolen the relic – which she still hasn’t gotten credit for by the way - the one with black hair she’d tricked by turning into the ginger girl. That had been entertaining for a brief moment, but he’d been alone so it made for an easy takedown. He was being held elsewhere – alive, for now as incentive to make the boy talk, but that could change given recent developments.  

Recent developments being the newest addition to the whale. The blonde one. For some reason she’d pegged him as being smarter than his teammate. Neo was perceptive, it was her specialty, actually. She could tell the black-haired boy was weak mentally, emotionally, that was why she targeted him, and it was why, she’d wager, he came here impulsively looking for his kidnapped comrade and perhaps the relic.  

She didn’t think anyone else would be stupid enough to follow, not alone anyways, but then came this one. He’d put up a better fight, but he couldn't take on even the lowest of Salem’s underlings, not by himself.  

And she was his babysitter. Mercury was watching the other one and Hazel was probably keeping an eye on the child, probably eagerly awaiting his next approval to beat the kid to a pulp. And maybe they were delighting in their tasks, but Neo was bored. She couldn’t exactly tease or mouth off to him. Well, she could, but it wasn’t like he’d understand her. So they just...stared at each other. Or rather, she stared. He’d glance up at her with eyes full of contempt every so often but for the most part he seemed content to stare up at the ceiling or down in his lap. But she studied him with watchful eyes.  

He was quiet, pensive. Probably thinking of an escape plan for himself and his comrades. He was a smart guy, surely he realized Salem didn’t need two reasons to convince the kid to talk. Kill one while he watches to show him her threat is serious; Oscar would be willing to do anything to protect the one left alive. Their window was closing fast, and he must realize that, but Neo also knew these boys had plenty of other friends who could come to their aid if they were stupid enough.  

And attachments certainly had a way of making people stupid.  

He was still as a statue for the most part, the only subtle movements he made every so often occurred when he rubbed the fabric of his scarlet sash between his fingers. The bright red stood out against the darkness of the rest of his outfit and the pristine white of his armor like a sore thumb. The longer she stared at it, the more a memory itched at the back of her mind.  

A girl with fire-engine-red hair and a sash around her waist to match. She’d carried her team throughout the Vital tournament, Neo remembered, though she’d never gotten the pleasure of fighting her. She’d been Cinder’s pawn, the spark that would be used to ignite the world. She’d met her fate – her destiny – that night.  

He was one of her teammates, the sash must have been hers. Neo wasn’t the only one who lost someone when Beacon fell, it seemed, and she wasn’t the only one who still carried a piece of them with her. The thought was enough to make the small woman unconsciously reach up, her fingers ghosting over the velvety brim of her hat – Roman's hat. She frowned, the color draining slightly from each of her heterochromatic eyes, and when she looked back up she was horrified to learn that the tables had turned. He was now staring at her. If the realization in his cerulean eyes was anything to go by, Neo would wager he’d put two and two together.  

She glared at him, color and intensity returning to her eyes. She didn’t want his pity, and he sure as shit wasn’t getting any from her.  

“You really cared about him, didn’t you?” His voice was hoarse – with emotion, misuse, or weariness, she couldn’t tell, nor did she care enough to find out.  

Believing he wouldn’t understand her anyway, she answered via sign language. “He was my only friend” her scowl deepened as she went on. “And your friend killed him.”  

His deep blue eyes shifted from moderate compassion to confusion to anger in a matter of moments. She didn’t register what that must mean until after he’d already said “Guess that makes us even, then” in a bitter voice.  

Neo froze. A moment passed before she shook off her surprise and signed, “You understand me?”

Some of the anger left his eyes as he replied calmly, “My sister taught me a little.” He didn’t elaborate, and Neo found herself wanting to ask, but first she felt the need to defend herself.  

“Cinder is not my friend.”

“Coulda fooled me.”  

Neo frowned. “She’s not. We just want the same thing.”

He was silent for a moment. She could see him translating in his head but even after that there was a noticeable pause. “Revenge.” He nods, and Neo bristled slightly at the idea that this guy thinks he’s got her all figured out. “It won’t change anything. It won’t - won’t bring him back.”

Neo glared daggers at him. Maybe not, but it’s all I have left. She didn’t dare sign those words, but the look on his face told her that he was reading her like an open book, and she quickly looked away, not wanting to see the sympathy in his eyes. She didn’t want it – didn't deserve it. When she went to sleep at night, she had dreams about murdering his friend, why on earth would he look at her like that?

“And even if it did, Ruby didn’t kill him.”  

She gave him a sharp look at that, and if looks could kill he’d already be dead. Did he think she was stupid? Some dumb little girl that didn’t know how to enact revenge properly? Ruby was the last person to see Roman alive before he died. Whatever happened up there, it was her fault he was gone.  

“I know she’s my friend and I’m sure you think I’d say anything to defend her, but you can trust me when I say Ruby’s not like that. She’s all about protecting life, she’d never kill anyone.”  

She scoffed at that. Trust me. Neo didn’t trust anyone – the only person she’d ever extended that courtesy to was dead. What had this golden-haired stranger with his earnest ocean eyes and sincere voice done to earn her trust?  

There was silence for a moment and then, “From what she told me,” he began, sounding, for all accounts, like he was simply thinking out loud. “He got swallowed by a grimm.”  

That statement hung in the air for a moment, the implications of that fact not lost on either of them. They both knew who controlled the grimm, and they both knew who was there that night that served her.  

Neo had no reason to believe him – or Ruby. But an annoying voice in the back of her head reminded her that she had no reason to believe Cinder, either. She’s been here long enough to see how things – these people – worked. Salem wrapped her followers up in her honeyed words and grand promises. She was manipulative and Cinder was molded in her image.  

Neo huffed and turned away from Jaune before crossing her arms. She didn’t want to think about this. She was fine where she was, she was on her way to getting what she wanted, who did this boy think he was to come in here and put doubts in her mind?

She could hear him shift behind her, getting up from his place on the ground she’d wager. She tensed, wondering if he was going to try and fight his way out again, but then he spoke gently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, Neopolitan.” He called, and she uncrossed her arms, some of the anger leaving her.  

She didn’t know what compelled her to do so, but she turned around and signed. “Just Neo.”  

There was a pause, and he looked like he was thinking before he signed “I’m sorry, Neo.”  

Neo blinked in surprise. All this time they’d been able to communicate because he understood her language – and that in itself was rare – but here he was reaching out to her using her language. The last person who’d bothered to do that for her was Roman.  

What is this guy’s game?

He was playing her, he had to be. She’d thought he was planning an escape, and this must be it. Get inside her head, plant doubts so she’d slip up and let him go while he left her with the fallout when Salem inevitably found out. Well, Neo wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it. She marched up to him, her eyes vibrant and defiant as they glared at him defiantly. She stopped maybe a foot from him, glaring up at him, he was well over a foot taller than she was, but she didn’t care. “I know what you’re doing and it’s not gonna work.”

His eyes looked sad then, and she realized much to her chagrin that he felt sorry for her. “I can’t tell you what to do, Neo,” he said sincerely, and suddenly Neo could feel the fight leaving her. She deflated; her glare retreated leaving eyes that looked almost as sad as his. “But I can tell you that you deserve better than this place and these people.”  

Their eyes met once more before he turned away from her, leaving Neo alone with her thoughts again.  

Except the only thought that came to her was whether or not his inevitable escape attempt would be successful. Why she felt a tiny glimmer of hope in the back of her mind that he would be, she couldn’t say. Or didn’t want to.

[firefighterthirst]

Formals

(@911x911lonestarsmutweek: Day Three)

It ain't right, the way Captain Strand looks in his dress uniform at this fancy dress function. The crisp black and the medals suit him, and he stands different- taller, prouder, like he wants everyone to know that he won't defer to them. Before now, Judd has never understood what people meant when they said they wanted someone to step on them. With Captain Strand in formals, though, he understands. He thinks he would do damn near anything that his captain asked of him.

He doesn't say anything about it because he doesn't want to make things weird, but of course, Captain Strand always knows when something is up. After the event is over, he asks Judd over for a drink. Judd can't say no.

Captain Strand pours them each a glass of some expensive tequila and smiles at him. The shadow along his jaw is calling out to Judd to see if it's as rough as it looks, and he has this smile to his eyes that promises trouble. Who can blame him if Judd knocks back most of his drink?

"What are we doing here, Judd?"

"You asked me over," he reminds.

"Yeah." Captain Strand takes a thoughtful sip of his drink. "Do you like my formals?"

This is some sort of game that Judd isn't sure how to play, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try. "I think they look mighty good on you, Cap."

For a moment, Captain Strand considers this. Then he finishes his drink and turns toward the hall to the bedroom. It's a clear invitation, one that Judd scrambles to follow, admiring the way that Captain Strand's slacks fit his ass. He definitely had those things tailored.

It occurs to him that Captain Strand's bedroom looks exactly like one would think. It's sleek and minimalist with a large bed that's been made with military crisp corners. He doesn't know what else he should have expected.

He kneels in front of Captain Strand and crosses his arms behind his back. This isn't his first rodeo and he aims to impress, to be good enough to be rewarded with whatever his Captain wants to give to him. It's hard not to react visibly when his perfect supplication is rewarded with a hand in his hair and Captain Strand stepping forward until Judd can rest his forehead against his hip.

"Be good for me?" Captain Strand asks.

Judd nods.

He stays in place until Captain Strand moves first, going over to his night stand to retrieve lube and condoms. "I didn't take you as the sort with authority issues, Ryder."

"Are you seriously trying to psychoanalyze me right now?"

"Just making conversation." Captain Strand returns to Judd and pulls his head back by his hair, forcing the two of them to make heated eye contact. "Are you seriously trying to start a fight with me right now?"

"No, sir."

The title seems to flip a switch in Captain Strand. He stands up just that little bit straighter and looks down at Judd like he wants to devour him.

"Take off your clothes and bend over the bed."

Under Captain Strand's watchful eye, Judd strips off his formals and folds them neatly, setting everything on the desk in the corner of the room before he bends over. He hasn't done this in years. Of course it's the fancy new captain from New York that has him this desperate for it. As soon as he's in position, Captain Strand is behind him. A calloused hand settles on his hip while dress shoes kick his legs a little wider.

He hears the click of the lube bottle's cap a few seconds before slick fingers slip between his cheeks and rub against his hole. It's hard not to squirm. Judd tries to keep still for the most part by taking the bedding in his fists, but he can't help a twitch of his hips when Captain Strand presses a finger into him.

"Stay still."

Judd nods. He wants to be good. He manages not to move as Captain Strand gets him ready, even if it takes all his willpower. No matter how much he wants to watch when he hears the sound of a smart leather belt being unbuckled. The realization that Captain Strand is going to keep his uniform on while he fucks him sends a thrill through him.

It's when he finally pushes in that Judd can't help moving, trying to take more faster than Captain Strand is ready to give. The motion earns him a sharp spank that has him keening. If that's supposed to discourage him, he doesn't know how effective it'll be. Nonetheless, he continues to try and be good while his Captain fucks him.

Captain Strand, as it turns out, is as ruthless when it comes to sex as when it comes to running his firehouse. Every single thrust pushes Judd's hips against the edge of the mattress and has him gasping for breath. Somehow, Captain Strand has impeccable aim too, managing to hit Judd's prostate nearly every time. It's not quite enough to make him come, but he knows better than to try and touch himself right now.

"Please," he whines.

In response, Captain Strand moves one of the hands on Judd's waist to his neck, pinning him down better. It's an almost degrading way to be held, which only makes this whole thing hotter than it already was.

"Please what?"

"Please sir, let me come."

He doesn't get a real response. Instead, Captain Strand laughs at him and fucks him harder. Judd didn't think he could. All he can do is moan, his head completely empty of anything except for the sensations of getting fucked like it's the last thing they'll ever do. Tomorrow, he's definitely going to be sore. Fuck, there's a shift tomorrow. But he can worry about the fallout later. For now, all that matters is how full Judd feels and the thought that if this continues long enough, he might actually be able to get off.

Just as he thinks that, Captain Strand presses in deep and comes, filling up the condom and just barely rocking through his orgasm. Judd whimpers when he finally pulls out, and takes a moment to catch his bearings while Captain Strand lets go of him.

"Christ," he manages.

"No, Owen."

He snorts and turns around, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Can you, you know..."

"I'm done with you," Captain Strand says. His slacks are still open but he's put himself back into his boxers, and as Judd watches, he goes over to the dresser to take off his cuff links. "You did good, but you can go now."

"Are you serious?"

Captain Strand nods toward Judd's clothes, indicating to get redressed. "Uh, yeah. Maybe you can come next time, if you earn it."

[dimigex]

Current WIP/ Drabbles list

So, I have a day in my writing schedule that is dedicated to working on stories not Altered Reality, Healing Hands, Heart in a Silver Cage, or Losing Control, but I have so many that’s it’s hard to choose. I went through and made a massive list of the current projects that I have (and realized I need to complete more and jump around less). Everything on this list is at least over a thousand words and most are considerably more than that. 

I kind of wanted to open this up to see if any of these descriptions get my followers excited in the ‘omg tell me more, why isn’t this finished yet’ way because there is only so much time each day to work on things. If you see something you want to know more about or really want to see me post sooner rather than later, please, Please, PLEASE inbox me (you can even use Anon to do so) or reply or reblog or whatever. I want to work on things that other people will be excited about too. It’s no fun alone. I mean it kind of is, but feedback is the best and if you’re excited you’re more likely to comment and engage. 

Works are below the cut because I have zero self control and the list is long. Keep in mind this is nowhere near the full amount of stories I have in docs, only the ones that are well developed and/or written or close to being finished (or have a chapter or more if it’s a long story)  

Big Stories (things that would be split into multiple chapters/parts):

Naruto:

Clean - KakaSaku, Sakura comes back to the village with an infant daughter and a big secret, one that she’s sworn never to tell even if it makes her life miserable. This is a study on the things we do for love, even when it hurts us. This story also has some previous SasuSaku undertones

Dark Side of the Moon - KakaSaku, this is basically the flip side of Altered Reality. Kakashi lived in a happy world and is suddenly thrust into a reality where nearly everyone he cares about is dead and he’s in a relationship with Sakura. With everything upside down, can he figure out what happened and get back to his family before it’s too late? Or should he move on with the new normal?

Here With You - Kakasaku, A 10k follow on to my oneshot Distraction which is mutual pining (and mutual self pleasure while thinking of the other). Kakashi and Sakura are tired of dancing around their feelings for each other, but neither knows what to do about it. With a little help from Ino, Genma, and maybe some alcohol, they’ll figure it out. 

Mortal Flaw, Fatal Sin - KakaSaku (with a heavy dose of anti-SasuSaku, Sasuke really does come across evil in this one) Sakura returns to Konoha after over a year with little to no contact with anyone. Pregnant and alone, she turns to Kakashi to try and figure out what to do with her life and tempers flare when the truth starts to come out. (this one will have a lot of trigger warnings, it’s a dark take on SasuSaku)

Run to You  - Jiraiya/Tsunade, snippets of their lives through the second war and forward (Niwaki’s death, Dan’s, the first time they hook up (because let’s face it, it happened)

Shattered - This starts as a SasuSaku morphs into a KakaSaku and NaruSasu. After the war, Sasuke is held in prison in Konoha for treason. Kakashi is Hokage and he didn’t ask for this mess with his former team, and he certainly didn’t ask to start developing feelings for Sakura as she’s doing her best to save Sasuke from himself. 

She is the Sunlight - KakaSaku, Sakura is unhappy with life in the village after the war (and Sasuke) and wants something more than just her medical work at the hospital. Eventually she latches onto the idea of Anbu which Kakashi strongly opposes because he wants to protect her from the horrors of it. (this is actually a combination of two stories I have where Kakashi catches the feels and doesn’t know what to do about it and Sakura kind of self-destructs before he figures it out)

Starting Over - Kakayama, Tenzo doesn’t know what to do with himself after the war and ends up helping at the hospital. When an orphaned infant isn’t doing well, Tenzo puts in some extra effort and maybe falls in love with the idea of being a dad if only he can convince Kakashi that it’s a good idea. 

Overwatch:

Empire - Gabriel centric, dealing with his pre army life with his family, initiation into a gang, conversion to the army, marriage and daughter, then ending at SEP. This is a wild ride from start to finish honestly. 

Through the Glass - Genji/Mercy, their time during his recovery after Overwatch saved his life, then probably reconnecting later as an epilogue. 

(You Held the Gun that) Fired First - Reaper76, starting with the founding of Overwatch, the slow decay of Jack and Vincent’s relationship, the chaos of Jack and Gabe together, ending sometime around the start of the game probably. I’m not planning to follow canon heavily but there will be a lot of stuff happening here including but not limited Jack planning to ask Vincent to marry him, a massively public break-up, Vincent gets attacked and nearly killed, Ana’s death, the explosion. Honestly I haven’t decided on the ending point yet 

Drabbles (smaller, one shots that don’t need additional chapters, probably): 

Naruto

Beautiful, Perfect Disaster - KakaSaku, all the tension between them finally snaps into a first kiss that might be the start of something wonderful 

Blame it on the Blood Loss - KakaIru, When Kakashi and Iruka go on a mission together, the latter is badly injured and rambles confessions he never meant to share

Innocence - KakaSaku, Kakashi and Sakura have been dating for a while when she shocks him by admitting she’s never been with anyone before and wants him to be her first (and last), not going to lie, this is mostly smut 

Interrupted Affections - KakaSaku, Kakashi and Sakura have just started dating and the days on missions without being able to touch is killing both of them. Sneaking away from Tenzo and Naruto, they try to find a little alone time to reconnect. It goes about as well as expected 

Let It Go - NaruSasu,in which Naruto tries to convince Sasuke to stay in the village and Sasuke has some convincing reasons on why he shouldn’t 

Letting Go - Kakayama, set in their Anbu days where Tenzo pays the ultimate price to save Kakashi’s life and Kakashi goes a little crazy as a result 

Memories and Hope - Genma/Kakashi, on the anniversary of Minato’s death Genma and Kakashi realize they have more in common than they realized. 

Saying Goodbye - Kakayama, Tenzo reflects on all the could have beens at Kakashi’s funeral 

Shadows and Sunlight - KakaSaku and NaruSasu, This is a follow on to my story Lightning and Starlight (in which Sasuke uses chidori on Sakura on the bridge when she tried to kill him, aka Kakashi got there too late). It follows the fallout of that day when everyone catches feels and realizes relationships are complicated

Surprise Advances - Tenzo/Anko, a train wreck mission leads this unlikely pair to fall into bed together (a spin off from Heart in a Silver Cage)

The Monster You Made - Kakashi/Obito, after the war (in which Obito doesn’t die, obviously) Kakashi saves Obito from execution for his crimes and realizes that he has some unresolved feelings for the teammate that he thought he’d lost years ago. 

The Photograph - Tenzo/Obito (set in Altered Reality universe) where an Anbu mission makes Tenzo rethink his opinion of his captain 

The Story of Your Scars - Kakayama, this is a follow on to Find Me in the Dark (in which Tenzo was captured and tortured by Orochimaru) where Kakashi tries to help Tenzo deal with the trauma of it 

Undone - Kakashi centric, young Kakashi wakes up in the hospital after his failure to save Rin (honestly this is about the shattering of Minato and Kakashi’s relationship) 

Undressed - KakaYama, Kakashi comes home broken up after a mission and Tenzo helps him remove his armor, in more ways than one

Overwatch

First Impressions - Reaper76, after the SEP injections which Jack has a difficult time with and Gabe helps him get through 

Shattered - Vincent learns about the explosion at the Swiss HQ and that Jack is missing in it 

War is Hell - Reaper76, the fallout after another bad Blackwatch mission where Jack is left picking up the pieces 

Other

Apocalyptic - Genma/Fynta (swtor crossover) where Genma is trapped in the Star Wars universe just trying to survive (co-written with Cinlat)

[readyplayerhobi]

Sleigh Bells Ring

; (Not so)Single Dad!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 10.2k

; Synopsis: This Christmas is going to be different than usual; it’s you first spent with Hoseok and his daughters while living with them. You’re not sure who’s more excited though, you or Hoseok.

; A/N: Revisting our favourite dad and his family on Christmas! :D please reblog if you enjoyed and send me comments and questions! :D

; Sequel to Silver Bells and Cockle Shells

; Part of the 12 Days of Bangtan Collab

-

“You’ve got all the presents right? And the cookies? I definitely packed them in that bag for you. The presents are there aren’t they?” The insistent nattering of your mom makes your eyes roll exasperatedly, looking at her with love and affection alongside just a hint of annoyance.

She means well and you try to tell yourself that repeatedly. This is the first Christmas that you’ll be spending not at your parent’s house for the day. It sounds a little lame when you say that, considering your age, but you’d never been in a committed relationship where you’d been living with someone else to spend Christmas with them instead of your own family.

Until this year.

This year marked your third Christmas with Hoseok, but it was your first Christmas living with him. You’d only made the transition into not only his heart and his bed, but his home, a few months ago. Both of you had moved slowly, letting his daughters get used to the idea of you being around more frequently until the prospect of you living full time with them wasn’t strange.

For both them and you.

Hoseok had been painfully aware that he needed to move slowly and carefully with his daughters and you’d been completely amenable to it, recognising that his three little girls were his entire world. But he’d also been careful to make you aware that his small world had expanded to include you.

And that meant he knew that he couldn’t simply expect you to just be perfectly fine with gaining a purpose built family. Accepting him meant accepting his kids, and he had never expect you to be a mother to them but it had been inevitable that they slowly looked to you for things that a mother would be the most likely to give them.

Such as when you’d given Soo-ah plenty of advice when she’d shyly come to you one morning a few months ago, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment while stress made her eyes big. It had been so early that Hoseok and you had still been fast asleep in bed, his eldest daughter quietly shaking you awake and hoping not to wake her father.

That hadn’t worked, of course. Hoseok was a dad, and he’d been a solo father for so long that he was automatically attuned to his kids needs which meant he’d startled awake faster than you. But she’d insistently tugged you out of his arms, a frown on her face as she’d steadfastly ignored his concerned gaze.

You knew that it had hurt him that she hadn’t felt that she could come to him, especially when you’d told him later that the reason she’d come to you had been because she’d started her first period. While he knew logically that she’d probably be more comfortable talking to you, as a woman, you’d still had to soothe his hurt parental feelings.

Still, you knew that he appreciated the fact that you were there for those more awkward talks. Though he had been adamant at making it clear to all his girls that he was not going to be a squeamish and awkward dad with them. No, he was very much ready to talk to them about whatever they wanted.

It had pleased you both though to know that Soo-ah was finally comfortable enough with you to discuss personal matters such as that. She’d struggled more than the twins at accepting you in her father’s, and therefore her life. But she was getting there and she’d been trying.

“Yes mom, they’re all in my bag. The presents, and the food. And the books. And everything else you’ve snuck in there. Probably the cat if you’ve tried.” You muse, glancing down at your phone as you respond to a text from your best friend with an amused smile.

Your mom just lets out a snort, causing you to look up and watch as she flops down onto the couch in an exaggerated manner that makes her look far younger than she actually. A glance at your dad lets you see that he’s not even phased, his gaze focused firmly on the 4K television he’d managed to coax your mom to buy a few months ago, a Playstation controller in his hand while he plays his game.

“You don’t have to act so rude. I’m just being nice and caring.” Sighing deeply, you sense that you’ve affronted her deeply held maternal instincts and so you place your phone down, giving her a sweet smile.

“Thank you mom. They will all appreciate the food. You know that Hoseok loves your cookies and the girl’s adore your cupcakes. And they will all love their presents, even though Hoseok said not to get them too much.” That was probably the wrong thing to say.

She’d looked pleased at hearing their love for her baking, and you wouldn’t fault her there because you also enjoyed eating her baked delights, but then your words about the presents filtered in and she scowled deeply. Internally, you winced because you knew that she was going to get mad now.

“What do you mean?! I haven’t got them too much, I’ve got just enough. There’s two presents for Hoseok and three each for the girls.” You can’t stop the smile that spreads as you listen to her, watching as she counts on her fingers while also explaining what she’d bought.

Your mom had been wary at first when you’d told her about Hoseok. She’d been delighted to find out that you’d found someone you really liked, especially when he treated you so well and made you much happier than you had been beforehand. She’d liked him even more when you’d finally shown her pictures of him, her eyes widening as she took in how handsome he was and the beautiful profile he was blessed with.

And then she’d found out that he was a widower and had three daughters. Not only that, but three daughters all over the age of five. That had thrown her a bit and you knew that she wasn’t sure what to expect. 

Which had been entirely understandable. One child might have been surprising but not too much, two would have been a little more brow raising but three? That was a ready made family that you were walking into and she’d seen the potential fallout that could occur long before you’d properly thought about it.

As strange as it was for you to accept that you had entered into a relationship where you had become a pseudo-mom for three young girls, it was even stranger for your parents who had suddenly gone from no grandchildren to technically three. Even though you repeatedly told them that the girls were not their grandchildren.

But when did semantics ever matter to grandparents? They’d thrown themselves into it once they’d realised that Hoseok and you were serious, badgering you to introduce him and then his girls. Hoseok had been very hesitant and unsure, not wanting to make his previous wife’s parents feel uncomfortable at the idea of their grandchildren gaining ‘new’ grandparents.

So after permission from them, he’d finally brought them to your parents house for dinner. It had been his first time meeting them, which he’d handled like a trooper given the circumstances. And yet it had been almost instant love for your dad and the twins. 

They’d latched onto each other instantly, enjoying his loud laugh and playing games together until Hoseok was apologising for the loudness of his progeny. But your dad hadn’t cared. In fact, he’d looked happier and more alive than you’d seen him in recent years.

And Soo-ah? Well, she’d surprisingly latched onto your mom pretty well. As said before, your mom was phenomenal at baking and often sold her stuff to friends or for small catering events. Soo-ah had discovered a love of baking through her, enjoying spending all her time in the kitchen as they baked delicious food.

You supposed it was your mom’s kind and loving nature. She had worked for a long time as a support worker, caring specifically for a group of girls with severe disabilities and ensuring that they got to enjoy their life to the fullest. It had been the perfect job for her, suiting her nurturing personality and she’d done amazing at it, but ill health had forced her to retire a little earlier than she would have liked to.

With Soo-ah, she’d inadvertently found someone to nurture who hadn’t even realised they’d wanted or needed it. You’d felt bad that Soo-ah seemed to like your mom better than her own, blood grandparents but Hoseok had waved off your concerns with a smile.

In his eyes, they would be just as much her grandparents if your relationship kept going well as her real grandparents. Besides, it had endeared her to you a lot quicker now that she always wanted to visit your mom.

“Did you leave any for me?” You tease lightly, smiling as she pauses and gives you an imperious look. It’s a look that she’s given you many times throughout your life and it causes you to chuckle, knowing that of course there are presents for you. As an only child, you would fully admit to being spoiled by your parents throughout your life. 

It wasn’t something you’d ever asked for, but they’d done it either way. And you knew that they revelled in the concept of having more people to dote affection on. Particularly given how much they liked Hoseok. You were pretty positive that they’d begun saving for a wedding months ago, even though there had been zero hint of that from either Hoseok or you.

“There’s some for you...yes. Hopefully you’ll like them.” Your dad finally deigns to say, glancing over at you with a small smile before he’s looking back at the television screen. Chuckling lightly, you nod and stand up, stretching with a small grunt.

“I’m sure I will. Remember, yours are under the tree,” You pause slightly, warmth rushing through your chest as you look over at the small pile of presents for each of your parents. “There’s one each from the girls and then...ones from Hoseok and I.”

It leaves you a little breathless to say that and you feel silly, looking down at your hands. Last year, Hoseok had brought the presents for your parents separately and it had simply been one present from all four of them. But this year, he’d gone with you to buy them and had picked out the presents from his daughters.

Your heart fluttered slightly, knowing that the presents from you now bore gift tags that said ‘To Mom, love Y/N and Hoseok’. It had strangely made everything seem much more real, as you’d never had a relationship serious enough to warrant dual signed presents. He’d written the tags to his own parents presents as from both of you as well, leading to a little anxiety from you that they wouldn’t be fond of that.

They hadn’t said anything when he’d dropped them off though, just gave you both a hug and him an extra kiss on the cheek while thanking you and handing off their own presents. It had been with excitement that you’d seen presents labelled to you in them, leading you to silently believe that they approved of you.

Things like that were probably normal in most relationships, but everything seemed to be done different for Hoseok and you. After all, he had three daughters over the age of four when you first started dating. The rules were a little different in situations like that.

“Okay, I’m gonna head off. Anything else you desperately need to do?” You ask teasingly, grinning at your mom’s outraged expression before she shrugged lightly.

“Maybe I’ve got one more present for Hoseokie.” Her endearing nickname for him was cute and you try to hide your smile, knowing that she only calls him that when he’s not there. If she thought he didn’t know though, he was very wrong. She’d called him it once on a call to you only it had been on speakerphone while you did something else, leading to him overhearing her nickname.

He liked it though.

“Mom! Seriously?” You whine at her quietly, standing and heading out to the hall. The bag that she’d put all the presents into is waiting for you beside your boots which you pull on before slipping your arms through your black winter coat. A scarf is being wrapped around your head before she appears again with a smile and a small box in her hand.

“Hush. He deserves to be doted on after all he’s gone through. It’s nothing big.” Staring at her in suspicion, you look down at the plain box with a wary eye. It’s got no wrapping on it so you presume it’s something she bought rather late.

“Is this something he can open in front of the kids?” She gets an affronted look before snorting a laugh, something that sounds incredibly similar to what you do. Hoseok had noted that you seemed to favour your mom a lot in terms of mannerisms.

“Y/N! Seriously! It’s not a cock ring. It’s...it’s a photo frame. I’m not sure he’ll like it but I hope he does.” Pursing your lips, you look down at the box with an undeniable inquisitiveness and your mom tuts in gentle admonishment, taking it from your hands and opening it.

It’s one of those frames that let you put multiple pictures in and each one has been lovingly filled by her. There’s a photo of the girls, then one of Hoseok and the girls together, then one of you and them together. And finally, a photo of just Hoseok and you, arms wrapped around each other with silly grins on your faces.

You find yourself smiling softly before you hesitate, letting your fingers run down the side. “Mom...there’s no Yoo-jin picture. Maybe we should swap the one of me and-”

The cover is placed back on the box and she puts it into the bag at your feet before looking at you with a sad smile. Her hands come up to fuss with your scarf and you feel like a child all over again.

“Sweetheart, Yoo-jin still lives in that house and I’m glad she does. She is the mother of those beautiful girls and she shouldn’t be forgotten. But it makes me sad when I go there and I see more of her than you. You live there now. I’m not saying that I want her photos gone, I don’t. I just want to see more of you in there. If it offends Hoseok then he doesn’t have to put them anywhere, but I’d like to think that he’d be amenable to it.” 

“Mom…”

“I’m not saying to erase Yoo-jin, she has a firm place and she should never be removed from that place. But it’s your home now too. You live there, you care for those girls, you love those girls and you love that man.” You can’t find it in yourself to say anything to her so you simply nod, hoping to find a way to explain it to Hoseok.

There were photos of you in the house, but they were still minimal compared to those of Hoseok, the girls and Yoo-jin. You’d been okay with that, knowing that you were the imposter in that perfect little family. But your mom had hit a hidden nerve, the worry that you wouldn’t be allowed to grow in the space he’d invited you into.

Shaking your head, you smile brightly at her before giving her a tight hug.

“Thank you mom. I’ll call you tomorrow. Until then...Merry Christmas!” 

-

Later that evening, you’re sat on the couch and watching as the twins shout at each other while playing on their Nintendo Switch. Hoseok had bought them it for their birthday and you weren’t entirely sure buying twins a single present was a good idea, but he’d pointed out that if he bought only one of them it then he’d have to buy the other and he didn’t want to spend that much.

Which was reasonable, and it also meant that they had to take care of it because Hoseok had threatened that if it got broken, it was staying broken. So they treated it like a prized toy, having advanced from their superhero love to loving video games. You weren’t sure how Hoseok was managing to raise two girls who adored all things nerdy, because he wasn’t exactly a geeky person himself.

Another reason they loved you so much.

But for the moment, they were absorbed in playing Mario Kart with each other and trying to beat the other. If there was one thing being with Hoseok had taught you, it was that twins were perhaps the competitive creatures on the planet. 

Soo-ah was curled up in her usual spot in the comfy armchair she’d claimed as her own when Hoseok had bought a whole new suite the other year. The old one had ended up breaking when Ji-soo had jumped on it too hard. It was the angriest you’d ever seen Hoseok.

Not that he’d let that anger be seen by the girls, but when they weren’t in ear shot he’d used an amazing array of curse words that you hadn’t thought he’d even known frankly. But he conceded that he liked the new couches better, and Soo-ah had loved having her own little space in the living room.

A book was in her lap, one of the Percy Jackson books and you smiled at her softly even though she wasn’t watching. She was going to be a teenager soon, and you could already see the way she was starting to grow taller, her limbs starting to get that gangly look teens got when their bodies weren’t quite growing at the same rate.

But you’d never deny that she was the spitting image of her mom. It was like looking at Yoo-jin, which was an odd feeling for you given that you’d never actually met the woman. You felt proud of Soo-ah though and hoped that her mom was happy with how you were helping to raise her.

Warm lips press to your temple gently and you shift, looking at your boyfriend with a gentle smile and enjoying the tender gaze he gives back, eyes shimmering in the glow of the Christmas lights wrapped around the tree. It was decorated in rose gold and gold, a request from Soo-ah who was a little obsessed with the former at the moment, but you had to admit it was pretty.

The delicate baubles and other decorations hung from the fake trees limbs prettily while glitter tinsel wrapped its way around the branches, mingled with the warm lights that flickered softly. Icicle lights of the same colour decorated the main window while a sweet Christmas scene played out along the window sill.

Above the fireplace, which was currently lit and giving off a cosy warmth, were three stockings that had been personalised with a name each. They were for the girls evidently, and Hoseok had been using the threat of Santa all month to get them to do what he wanted.

You knew he was going to hate it when he couldn’t do that anymore.

More tinsel surrounded the shelf above the fireplace, shimmering softly as tiny snowflakes nestled amongst the festive decorations while various Christmas themed figures sat atop it alongside Christmas cards from family and friends.

It was all mostly matching, but some of it was a little odd. Like the plastic reindeer in the corner of the room, taking up the space that the vase which held ornamental branches normally held. That had been Ji-eun’s purchase. She’d threatened to have a nuclear meltdown in the store, despite being seven now, and Hoseok simply hadn’t had the willpower to put up with that.

Hence Meteor, the reindeer.

The name was Ji-soo’s choice. Again, something neither you nor Hoseok had wanted to fight.

But overall, the house just felt like Christmas and it pleased you. The candles which flickered gently atop the bookcase gave off a delightful cookie scent and everything just felt...nice. Three happy and content girls, a decorated house, presents under the tree and the most wonderful man in the world sat with you on the couch, his arm wrapped around you.

Yeah, this was definitely happiness. And you were glad that Hoseok was open to letting you experience this joy with him.

“You okay?” Hoseok whispers, his voice husky from how low he has it but you get the sense that he doesn’t want to interrupt the general mood of the room. It had been a worry as to how the girls might react to you not only coming over for Christmas, which is what you’d done last year in the afternoon, but actually being there for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning.

Despite how well they’d taken your presence in their lives, there were some things that they had as a routine that they didn’t like changing. Their birthday had bizarrely been one of the things that set the twins off. They had generally been amenable to you, latching onto you even but their birthday had been something that they had only ever celebrated with their daddy and grandparents.

It was made all the more awkward in that it was also the day Yoo-jin had died, meaning that Hoseok had juggled between celebrating the girls and commemorating their mom. Your appearance in their life had shifted that tradition and it had been one of the only major times that they’d thrown tantrums over you.

But everyone seemed to be okay this Christmas thankfully, and you smiled up at Hoseok.

“I’m fine. Just...gathering wool I guess,” You laugh quietly, feeling his body move against you as he lets out a breathy laugh too. “It’s exciting, spending Christmas with you and them.”

“I’m glad you think so. Part of me is a little sad that I can’t spend a Christmas with just you and give you that but then I wouldn’t trade a Christmas with the girls for anything. They make Christmas fun again.” He’s still got his voice low so they can’t hear, but the twins are making more than enough noise to cover up anything.

“Hey, don’t worry about that. It’s okay. Christmas is meant to be for family right? So...this is your family and I’m honoured to be part of it this year.” Hoseok grins at that, pursing his lips at you playfully and you roll your eyes before giving him a quick kiss.

That had been something new to get used to as well. Neither of you had really known how to introduce the concept of you both showing physical affection to each other in front of his kids so you’d just slowly worked your way up from holding hands to an occasional kiss.

Nothing too intense, neither of you felt it was appropriate to do anything more in front of them. You’d been mortified when Soo-ah had come across you both making out like teenagers and you’d been horrified when Hoseok forgot to lock the bedroom door one day and Ji-soo had woken up from a nightmare.

Thankfully, none of them particularly turned their nose up at a quick kiss and Hoseok in particular revelled in being able to show you affection. You’d discovered quickly that he was a very affectionate person when allowed, always wanting to be touching or holding you in some way. It was sweet, even if you had a suspicion that he’d likely always been affectionate but had been starved of romantic touch for so long.

“I love you.” He murmurs as he pulls away from your lips, pressing them to your forehead before looking over at the girls. “Okay, come on. I’ve got one present that Santa has given me early for you to open now and then it’s bedtime.”

The girl instantly stop their game, pausing it while Soo-ah looked up with bright eyes. She’d been told the truth about Santa two years ago but the twins still believed. And this was one of the traditions that you’d been worried about interrupting.

Hoseok squeezed your hand reassuringly though as he stood, heading over to the bookcase and pulling down four presents. He came back over to the girls and sat down on the floor with them, legs crossed as Soo-ah knelt next to him as well.

You remained on the couch, unwilling to intrude in this tradition. Hoseok had tried to get you to agree to get involved but you’d refused, deeming this to be something that only he and the girls should do.

“So, let’s look. This one...is for Ji-soo. This is Soo-ah, this is mine and that means that this is yours.” Hoseok grins at Ji-eun, handing her the prettily wrapped present. This was a tradition Hoseok had started after the twins were born and you hoped it continued on.

On Christmas Eve, he would give the girls a present each like he was doing now. Only they weren’t implied to be from him or his grandparents that Santa was delivering. Instead, these were special presents that Santa had retrieved from their mommy and delivered for them to open before Christmas.

As such, each tag wished them a happy Christmas and told them how much their mom loved them. It was the perfect way to keep her involved in their lives while also creating a sweet tradition of their own, and you’d refused to get involved with this one.

This was for them, to celebrate their mom on Christmas even if she wasn’t there.

“You go first Soo-ah.” Ji-soo says sweetly, smiling at her big sister and shuffling closer to her to see what she’s got. As with everything she does, Soo-ah opens it carefully and precisely before smiling. She obviously knows that it’s not from Santa, nor is it from her mom. But she plays along with it anyway.

Inside is a little black box and inside that is a beautiful necklace with a rose gold fox, enameled with white highlights. Soo-ah smiles brightly, lifting the delicate chain and watching as it shines prettily in the soft tree lights.

“It’s so pretty.” She whispers before placing it back down, letting her finger run over the pendant before looking at Ji-soo. Her younger sister has big, wide eyes before she looks down at her own present, tearing it open eagerly.

As she does so, Soo-ah looks at Hoseok and gives him a smile of thanks before focusing back on the mess Ji-soo is causing. Inside Ji-soo’s present is a set of Harry Potter books, something she’d been bugging Soo-ah to let her read for months now. Like her sister, Ji-soo was getting more into reading and Hoseok evidently wanted to encourage that.

“Thank you.” She said softly, smiling sweetly as she turned each book over reverently. No doubt they’d end up on the floor of the twins bedroom sooner rather than later but you had no doubt that they’d get read.

Ji-eun is already opening her present, revealing a LEGO set that at first glance doesn’t seem to be much but is in actuality, a Star Wars model. Immediately she’s squealing with excitement, about to tear into the box before Hoseok is tutting and taking it away from her.

“Tomorrow Ji-eun, I said we open the presents then we go to bed, right?” She pouts before nodding, her shoulders slumping and Ji-soo hugs her tightly.

“It’s okay! We can build it tomorrow sis.” Like magic, the words from her sister calm Ji-eun down and she’s back to being her smiling self, hugging Ji-soo back before babbling on about how cool it would be to play with. She’d already got around six other LEGO sets, enjoying the Star Wars ones because she could pretend to be in space.

Hoseok had made some good decisions with the presents and you let your foot run along his back slowly, letting him know that you approved of what he’d bought. Not that you hadn’t known, but he’d chosen these ones himself with no input from you. And he’d always been one to encourage any interests his daughters might have.

“Open yours dad! Open it!” Ji-soo exclaims, her twin practically vibrating next to her as she nods in excitement while Soo-ah moves a little closer too. This was the present that Hoseok had felt most awkward about, because he normally got his mom to get him something. But this year he’d asked you to get it, hoping to integrate both his deceased and his current loves.

You’d felt honoured and worried, unsure as to whether it would look good if you bought a present from him that was to be given in his dead wife’s name. But Yoo-jin’s parents had given their blessing to Hoseok’s idea, telling you that they knew you would do a good job for her because you were already doing good with her husband and children.

Maybe that made you cry. Just a little. Not a lot or anything.

As such, Hoseok had no idea what his present was, so shifted slightly to let you see his face too. He opened it up slowly, head tilting as he looked at the frame in his hand. It showed three star charts with a date below each.

And then he stiffened in realisation of what they symbolised, his eyes getting glassy as his lip quivered ever so slightly. Soo-ah frowned as she leaned forward, wondering what it was and she queried it softly.

Hoseok sniffed slightly before blinking rapidly and giving his girls a bright smile.

“It’s a star chart. It shows what the night sky looked like at a specific date so you can see what constellations were there. This...is your birthday Soo-ah and this is your birthday,” He points at one before gesturing to the twins. “And this...this is the day your mom and I got married.”

You can tell he’s struggling then for a moment and you reach out once more, just resting your foot against his hip in a simple gesture that said ‘I’m here’. He looked at you with a smile that wobbled before nodding slightly, pressing his lips into a firm line.

“I’ll have to put this up somewhere, huh?” There’s quiet for a moment before he places it to the side and gestures to the girls, pulling them all into a tight hug and kissing each one firmly on the head as they squirm and giggle. “I love you, and your mom loves you. I hope you like the presents Santa got from her.”

“We love them!” Ji-soo responds softly, wiping at her eyes that suddenly look a lot more tired and you can’t help but laugh gently. You swear the twins are battery operated because as soon as they lose power then they seem to shut down.

Hoseok senses it too, kissing her on the forehead before standing up.

“Okay, well...let’s get ready for bed then yeah? Santa can’t come if you’re awake! Don’t forget to leave out the carrot and cake for him, he’ll be very tired after all the travelling.” With that, you stand with him to help get them all ready and sent off to bed.

As they leave the kitchen after leaving out their treats for Santa and his reindeer, Hoseok pulls you to the side and presses a quick but deep kiss to your lips, holding your cheeks between his hands. He shifts back just as quickly, resting his forehead against yours and giving you such a fond look.

“Thank you. I love it. You should have left a space open on it though.” You feel yourself heat at that, unsure as to whether he means for another child or a wedding or what. “She would have approved.”

With that, he gives you another kiss before heading up the stairs to where the cacophony of girl voices tells you that the usual night time routine is in full motion. Standing in place for a moment, you look to the photo of Yoo-jin and Hoseok on their wedding day that sits atop the mantlepiece.

“I hope he’s right Yoo-jin. Happy Christmas.”

-

Shrieking voices wake you in the morning, alertness coming far too fast even though you’d been in bed by 11pm. Quietly you groan, voice gravelly from sleep while your eyes refused to open. Instead, you just roll over and curl closer into Hoseok, his warm body combining with the comfiness of the bed to try and lull you back to sleep.

But Hoseok is already alert, heaving a big sigh as he lets his head flop into the pillow for a few more moments before he’s shifting. You whine at him, fingers clutching at his shirt and he lets out a broken laugh, sitting up and running his hand over your shoulder.

“Come on baby, time to get up. It’s Christmas!” Despite how tired he sounds, you can tell he’s excited. Then again, he’s used to getting up crazy early with three kids by now. The man doesn’t know how to have a proper lie in, practically physically incapable of staying in bed past 9am. Unlike you...you hadn’t quite learnt that skill yet.

All of this meant that he was already pretty alert, a smile on his face despite his puffy eyes and cheeks, dark hair a complete mess. He hated what he looked like when he’d just woken up but you thought it was adorable.

The door slams open suddenly, left unlocked by Hoseok specifically for this reason despite the closed door policy of the house and two incredibly hyperactive girls come barreling through, voices getting increasingly louder as they talk over each other. Shuffling in bed, you move enough to let your head rest on Hoseok’s thigh as the twins jump onto the bed too, telling you both to hurry up.

“I’m guessing Santa’s been?” You ask, licking your lips and smile at the enthusiastic response you get from them. Soo-ah is stood in the doorway, looking far more tired than them with her plaited hair messy and pyjamas wrinkled.

“Yes! So you have to come downstairs! Come on! Please! Hurry up dad!” Ji-soo is tugging at Hoseok’s arm, jerking him as he laughs and holds up his free hand to her.

“Okay, okay. Go wash your faces and brush your teeth first then we’ll go down and open presents. Let me and Y/N get ready too.” They both pout immediately at the prospect of having to do chores, they thought of brushing their teeth as a chore at the moment, before opening presents but Hoseok is giving them The Look and so they speed off.

Soo-ah smiles at you both. “I’ll take them downstairs, don’t worry.”

With that, she closes the door behind her and leaves. Hoseok lets out a deep sigh that seems to come from the bottom of his stomach. “God...she’s getting older so quick. Where did my little girl go?”

Chuckling, you push yourself up and finally escape the confines of the duvet, stretching with a groan as you get out all the kinks.

“She’s still there. She’s growing up really well though.” You say absently, rubbing your eyes as you yawn. As such, you don’t see Hoseok come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly before kissing your shoulder.

“She is. Come on anyway, we can’t leave them alone too long. They’ll chew off their arms in impatience.” You snort in response to that, following him into the bathroom and quickly doing your morning routine at a much faster pace than you normally do.

Despite Hoseok saying that you didn’t need to change, you take the liberty of pulling on some clean underwear and leggings at least, wanting to be comfy and at least feel a little more like a person. He just pulls on some sweatpants before leading you downstairs.

The Christmas lights have already been turned on by Soo-ah you presume and you can’t help but laugh as all three of them sit eagerly on the floor in front of their respective present piles. Soo-ah doesn’t have as much as the twins, but then she’s reaching the age where her presents get smaller but more expensive.

“I see you’ve been good girl’s this year then. Santa must have enjoyed his time here,” Hoseok grins, pointing at the half eaten pie and empty glass that sat on the mantelpiece. “So come on then, let’s get on with it.”

He sits down on the couch, letting the girls take up the space and tugs you down next to him. The girls immediately tore into their presents, no consideration given for the time that had been spent wrapping them or anything and Hoseok has to repeatedly remind them to read the tags.

Soo-ah is finished first obviously, her pile consisting of books she’d asked for, a few films, some cute plushies and a bunch of clothes. That was everything she’d gotten from her grandparents and other family members. Her pride and joy though was the iPad that Hoseok had finally caved and bought for her.

The only reason he’d given in was because you’d told him that you’d pay part of it too so that he wasn’t spending a crazy amount on her. So it was the first dual present you’d ever gotten for her before and it made your stomach flutter with nerves and excitement as she squealed excitedly, holding the box to her chest tightly.

“Thank you dad!” Soo-ah said with the biggest smile, her eyes bright and Hoseok laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. 

“You need to thank Y/N too.” Without a second's hesitation she turns that pretty smile onto you and thanks you as well, jumping up and hugging you both tightly. She smells of the body spray that she’d started to wear lately, just a cheap one from the grocery store.

Ji-eun and Ji-soo distract you soon after, looking down at them as they both gasp in awe of the Playstation 4 that had been bought as a dual gift for them. A benefit of them both having the same bedroom was that Hoseok had only needed to buy one, letting them finally play all the games they begged to play on the console in the living room.

He was finally letting them have a little more time with electronics and you’d supported his decision the whole way. 

Alongside the PS4 came a whole host of games that they’d been desperately wanting to play along with a VR headset and an extra controller. That hadn’t been in the plan but Hoseok had been completely taken with the sales rep and ended up coming home with the thing. You hadn’t known whether it was a good idea for two girls so young but you figured they’d grow into it.

Plus...you kinda wanted to play it too.

Hoseok had admitted that to you as well and you had a feeling that it was probably more of a guilty present for himself as well. Not that you were going to out him about it or anything. At least...not until you’ve played Astrobot Rescue…

Their final presents from both you and Hoseok had been new bikes, bikes that would last them a few years as they grew. They weren’t cheap either, those fancy mountain bike styles because Hoseok wanted to be able to go on trails with them or take mini vacations to go biking. He liked that apparently, which was why you’d bought him a mountain bike for Christmas too.

Thankfully, you already had one so he had no reason to buy you one and Soo-ah had been gifted one last year from his parents. Their presents this from family were an assortment of superhero themed dolls which they still enjoyed playing with and a few small LEGO sets. For the most part, they both had similar interests so presents were a lot easier but you knew that would change as they grew older.

Then they’d watched with excitement as you and Hoseok opened presents. He got a bottle of expensive wine from his parents along with some expensive new shoes while Yoo-jin’s parents had gifted him a record player. You were surprised they still got him something but you thought it was sweet too.

Your own parents had gotten him one of the instant cameras, which confused you at first until he’d explained with a grin that he’d said to your dad he wanted one to take pictures and put them into books for the girls, and a box of fancy biscuits. The picture frame you’d hurried to say that you’d suggested changing one of the photos to Yoo-jin but Hoseok had just looked at you fondly, shaking his head lightly and telling you that it was perfect the way it was. 

He’d obviously got a bike from you but then you’d also splurged on him and gotten him the dash camera he wanted for his car. A more fun present was the series of figures that he loved. His face lit up in a smile that was a mirror image of his daughters as he examined the limited edition models with pure glee and your heart felt like it was going to explode in love.

From the girls, he got a whole range of small things that you’d gone and bought with them. Just stuff like funny socks to funny shirts, books to a new phone case. And you could see that he loved and appreciated every one of them.

Your own presents made you feel a little shy, the pile smaller than everyone else’s but they were just as eager to watch. The first thing you opened were from the girls. Hoseok had gotten you something from them last year but obviously you hadn’t seen them. This year you had them watching avidly.

And you let out a gasp of delight as you look down at the box of your favourite perfume, perfume that was not cheap.

“Oh my god! Thank you! This is my favourite!” You say excitedly, grinning broadly as you open the box and take out the pretty bottle. Soo-ah giggles as she shuffles closely, dainty fingers reaching out and touching the glass reverently.

“I know. I looked at your perfume and told dad.” Glancing at Hoseok, he shrugs with a small smile and you feel warmth blossom within at the fact that Soo-ah had taken the time to properly look. Despite feeling closer to the twins due to their immediate attachment to you, you still loved Hoseok’s eldest daughter and every step forward with her felt like a small victory.

“I love it. Thank you all.” 

Your parents had gotten you a new laptop and you vaguely remember that you’d told them you needed a new one. What’s surprising though is that it’s the exact one you’d been eyeing. Suspiciously, you glance to Hoseok who has a very innocent look on his face, eyes widening and brows rising as you watch him.

His parents had gotten you a beautiful military style long coat that had you ooh-ing as you ran your fingers over the luxurious black material and shiny gold buttons. It was truly exquisite and you just knew that it would look good on you.

Your eyes widened in shock as you were handed another present, this one small and delicate. But it was the tag that had you pausing, stating that it was from Yoo-jin’s parents. Almost immediately you look at Hoseok in confusion and he just leant forward, kissing your forehead.

“They’ve never met you but they know you’re in our lives and they didn’t want to be rude.” It was strange, opening up the present that his deceased wife’s parents had gotten you. Like you were breaking the rules or something, betraying Yoo-jin’s memory.

Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, little stars and moon breaking up the chain every now and then. It wasn’t an expensive brand or anything, but it could have been a cheap $5 ring and you would have been in awe given who it came from. Tenderly, you run your fingers along it while the girls all make noises at how pretty it is.

And then came the presents from Hoseok. Who appeared to have spoiled you given what you opened. Which was saying something given how much you’d spent on him.

A new Pandora bracelet complete with a set of Disney charms alongside a second bracelet that was rose gold, the hue shining in the dainty Christmas lights. New boots that you’d been considering for the last two months, your size and the exact colour you’d wanted. A set of tiny Harry Potter themed snow globes for your desk and a bunch of your favourite Pokémon in plush form. The console games you’d been wanting for a while but had been unwilling to spend money on and some new books for you to enjoy in your downtime. 

And then on top of all that, which was ridiculously honestly, was the Canon DSLR that he’d bought you. You’d been wanting to get a new camera and try out photography again, something you’d done years ago, but the cost had been putting you off.

“Hoseok!” His name comes out in an exasperated tone that’s threaded through with love, knowing that he’d just come with some excuse as to why he spent so much on you. You knew that he earnt enough and with you sharing the bills now he was even better off, but you’d never had so much stuff bought for it.

It left you a little flustered.

Almost as if he can tell, he grins broadly and kisses your cheek with an overly loud noise. The girls giggle to themselves at his display of affection before he squeezes your hand tightly.

“It’s Christmas! The season of giving. You can’t complain. Santa said you’ve been good.” You give him a look that tells him there’ll be a conversation about this later but you’re both distracted when the girls start to get antsy, wanting to play with their own stuff.

His foot came down rather quickly when the twins began to beg him to let them play outside on their bikes, desperate to have fun and probably scrape their knees multiple times. You’re sure he would’ve been okay with it, except that it was 5:30 in the morning and dark outside. Not exactly the right conditions to be letting them go around screaming.

Instead, he made them all go upstairs and shower to make sure that they were all clean before getting dressed in their comfy Christmas clothes that you’d bought for them. That was a tradition you’d brought from your own family; every year you got a new outfit for Christmas. Hoseok had been bemused by it but he’d gone along and the girls were just excited to have new clothes.

Once everyone was all dressed, you watched Hoseok for a moment as he helped to set up Soo-ah’s iPad as the twins got settled into playing on their PS4 already. He’d already turned it on and set it all up the other day so they were fully immersed in one of the LEGO games he’d bought, each chattering away as they played split screen.

A sudden wave of isolation hits you as you watched them, realising that you could easily walk out of the house right now and the picture here would still be the same. They wouldn’t really notice your loss and they’d survive happily without it. This was a family, his family. And you were just the interloper in it.

Chewing your lip, you turn around and head into the kitchen with a deep sigh. You try to keep those thoughts out of your head but it’s always a worry at the back of your mind. The anxiety that it all might fall apart. That you’d lose not only the man you love dearly, the man you’re positive is the love of your life, but also his beautiful daughters whom you had also come to love.

The kitchen is quiet as you turn on the oven, letting it pre-heat while you pull out the meats that you’d prepared the day before with Hoseok. Christmas dinner was easily one of the best moments of the day for you and you’d worked hard to combine his dinner with your family. Which meant you were eating honey glazed ham and roast turkey stuffed full of sage and onion stuffing.

Checking them over, you tut slightly and work at making sure they’ll be okay before placing them both into the oven, thankful that it was big enough to accommodate both. He had a grill above this that could also function as a second oven and you would be playing the vegetables into their later on to roast them to perfection with the seasonings and spices you’d lavished upon them.

You’re so invested in the food, taking out the cookies and everything your mom had given you yesterday and laying them on the side so that everyone could snack on them while the food cooked throughout the morning, that you don’t notice Hoseok sneaking in. It’s only when his arms wind around your waist that you realise, jumping slightly.

“Are you mad at me?” The childish tone to his voice tells you that he’s pouting and you resolve not to look at him. He has the most ridiculous puppy-eyes that manage to get him anything he wants and you’re not falling for it today. Not that you were actually mad at him or anything.

“No, I’m not. Though you spend way too much!” You whine petulantly poking his arm with your own lips turning into a pout. Hoseok chuckles, his chest vibrating against your back before he turns you around and gives you a bright smile, dimples appearing in his cheeks adorably.

“I love you. Christmas is when I get to spoil you.”

“You spoilt me on my birthday and our anniversary too.” Eyeing him suspiciously, his tongue pokes at his cheek as he looks at the ceiling and considers.

“Okay maybe so, but still. Point stands. I love you. And you never buy yourself anything! You always talk yourself out of it.” He argues, voice getting lower and more mumbled and you can’t help but smile at his face, reaching up and cupping those cheeks until they’re comically smushed. Despite the grumbles coming from his throat, he lets you be silly with him and you know it’s because you’ve gotten over it already.

“Did you like your stuff?” He nods, head jerking your hands before he reaches up and moves them away from his face. 

“I did. I’m a lucky guy.” Not responding, you just lean against his chest and exhale deeply, eyes closing as you just enjoy being with him in a small moment of silence in the madness that is his house. A madness that you’ve come to love and adore, something you’re not entirely sure you could live without anymore.

“This has been the best Christmas in a while.” Hoseok whispers softly, resting his cheek against your head while his arms wrap around you tighter. You don’t respond for a moment, hands grasping at his shirt before a response slips from your lips in a small, meek voice.

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. It feels...whole again. It’s been really nice to just...have someone else here. Someone I love, you know?” You don’t really know but you nod anyway, unwilling to let the moment slide between you both.

“I love you.” It’s whispered against his chest but you know that he hears, arms tightening for a moment before he kisses your head.

“Love you too.”

-

A click and a flash of light makes you jump, eyes widening as you look up at Hoseok who grins from behind the camera your parents had got him. It was after 10pm now, dinner a long distant memory and you were sipping a glass of mulled wine on the couch, curled up in your pyjamas and reading one of the new books you’d been given.

The girls had tired themselves out and had gone to bed over an hour ago, the early start and excitement of the day knocking them out quicker than you’d ever seen. Hoseok had spent that time cleaning up the room to his liking, putting their presents into neat piles before sitting on the floor in front of you and messing around with some of his own presents.

And your’s, he’d also been playing with your own camera. You were content to let him do so, the silence between you both comfortable and pleasant. His very presence was just soothing and the tiny noises he made without realising amused you.

But evidently he was feeling playful now, his face a picture of mischief as he takes the photo that prints out and waves it, letting the picture develop. Shaking your head, you roll your eyes at him before reaching out and pushing at his shoulder with your foot.

He chuckles, grabbing your foot and kissing your ankle. The close vicinity to your feet makes you cringe, pulling back immediately as you make a sound that would be more at home coming out of Ji-soo or Ji-eun’s mouth.

“Having fun?” You ask, lips pursing as he holds out the photo to you once he’s scribbled something on it in black Sharpie. It’s not bad in reality, those cameras always have a way of bizarrely making people look good and you run your finger over the photograph carefully, admiring the way he’d written ‘First Christmas together’. Hoseok takes it back and places it on the coffee table reverently.

“Yep. You’re beautiful.” That gets a soft laugh and the camera flashes once more, capturing the emotion forever. You whine, disliking the momentary blindness but he just lays his head on your knee for a moment, waiting for the photo to develop.

Once it’s done, he pushes up and sits next to you, holding out the camera in front of you both and gestures to you. You smile prettily for the camera, head leaning in towards him and waiting for the flash once more.

“Will you marry me?”

Any thoughts of the camera disappear as your eyes widen and your jaw drops, turning to look at him in shock. The click of his finger on the camera button combines with a blinding flash, the camera whirring as it prints.

“What?” It’s the only thing you can say, shock freezing you as you’re not sure if he’d just said that to get a reaction out of you or because he genuinely meant it. But then he looks at you with a gentle smile, handing you the photograph and getting up to retrieve something he’d hidden behind a frame on the mantelpiece.

Sitting back next to you, you’re still experiencing that bizarre sense of uncertainty, body flushing cold and hot as you try to assess the situation. But then Hoseok opens the tiny box, revealing an elegant silver ring with a beautiful diamond set into the centre. It’s simple, but you love it already and without even realising you start to cry.

“Hoseok…”

“Will you marry me? Final present, I swear.” He grins, his own eyes looking ever so slightly misty while his cheeks take on a slightly rosy glow. You can’t stop looking between his face and the ring, hands shaking as you drop the book onto your lap and reaching out for it.

“Really? You...you really want to marry me?” Part of you knows that you should just say yes, but your emotions are so overwhelmed. Marriage was obviously something that you’d both discussed, it was something that anyone who had inclinations of wanting to get married and in a long term relationship discussed, but you just hadn’t thought he’d want to so early.

It wasn’t even ten years since his wife had died and he’d always said that she was the love of his life. While you knew that was likely true and you hadn’t wanted to try and compete against a woman who couldn’t fight back, you had that struggle in that you were faced with a woman who would forever be perfect in his memory.

Marriage for Hoseok meant cementing your place into his family, truly allowing you to take the place Yoo-jin had left. You would legally be the girls step-mother. It just all felt so final and you hadn’t been sure that Hoseok was ready for that.

“Of course I want to marry you. I love you. As cheesy as it is...you made me realise that it’s okay to love again. That’s it’s not betraying Yoo-jin, or myself or my kids. I have so much to thank you for; for embracing my kids, for loving me even though I came with a lot extra, for not trying to erase Yoo-jin, for just caring so much. I love being with you, I love how my kids love you, I love how my parents love you, I love your parents, I love you try so hard. Being with you...makes me feel younger than I actually am, like I’ve got a partner in crime again. That sounds lame,” He snorts, rolling his eyes.

“But it’s true. It’s not just me being ganged up on by my daughters anymore. I have someone to confide in, someone to trust, someone that I can break down in front of and not be seen as weak and who will hold me up until I feel strong again. I don’t think you realise how much you’ve done for me, or my family. Our family. I know you always think about Yoo-jin and your respect for her is amazing. But I don’t want you to think about her this time. I just want you to think about yourself. I love you and I really, really want to marry you.”

You have no doubt that you’re ugly crying now, your nose going alongside your eyes and you sniffle pathetically, rubbing at your face with the ends of your sweater. It makes Hoseok laugh gently, reaching out and pulling you into a tight hug. Neither of you realises for a moment that you’re nodding your acceptance, body already doing what your mind had decided.

“Yes. Yes, god yes. I’d...I’d love to marry you. I mean if you’re okay with that.”

“Sweetheart...I just asked you. I think I’m okay with it.” But he doesn’t push further, grinning broadly as he pushes the ring onto your finger before kissing it. His eyes are still shining with his own unshed tears, happiness dancing in them before he pulls you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, neither of you caring if anyone interrupts this one.

“God I am so glad you said yes. I was very stressed about this.” He murmurs when you finally pull apart, foreheads pressed together while your noses brush. You sniff one more and he gently wipes away the tears, cooing in the softest voice as he consoles you.

The two of you hug and kiss for a while longer, unwilling to let each other go in the bliss of happiness and excitement that his proposal had engendered. Any worries you may have about being officially part of his family disappear finally, simply enjoying the moment with him and in awe of the fact that he loves you enough to marry you.

This guy, who you’d started talking to at a get together years ago simply because you were sat next to each, had become such an important part of your life and it genuinely shocked you to know that you’d become the same to him. He pulls away, reaching for the Sharpie and the photograph that had fallen to your lap.

Carefully, he writes on it before lifting it up to look at it with a smile. “I think that was a good proposal.”

Turning it, he lets you look at the photograph and you feel warmth blossom as you remember that he’d captured this moment. In the small picture, he’s grinning broadly, that mischief you’d grown so used to in his eyes, that he’d passed onto his daughters, very prominent while you stare at him in complete shock.

Along the bottom, he’s scrawled out ‘Will you marry me?’. Laughing, you kiss his cheek.

“Is this why you asked for this kind of camera?” He shrugs in response, expression mysterious and you just burrow yourself into side deeper.

“Happy Christmas sweetheart.”

“Happy Christmas.”

[powerosewaterpuff]

yo ,i remember a post about sort of reverse batfam , between jason and dick , can you do the headcanons about under the red hood please

yes yes yes yes yes and another yes to top it all off. i really really love the idea, and i love under the red hood in general so thank u so much for suggesting this :) like i spent all day brainstorming (probs shoulda been studying but shhhhh) diff headcanons so i’m pretty excited to write it out. also so the timeline with this is a little tight ig?? i really wanted to include tim as bruce’s new sidekick with dick in the middle of his fallout with bruce but again a lil too tight so we’re just gonna have rebellious dick for now and i also haven’t watched death in the family so i’m basing this purely off of under the red hood :) (oh and fuck dick’s hair in the movie oh my god i’m ignoring that it even exists i’m so sorry)

dick is 17 on the cusp of hitting 18 and he’s so fucking sick of batman. every conversation of theirs was leading to a screaming match where each one tries to push their opinion as fact. it was getting messy and soul crushing at this point, and dick hated it. the rising action of it all was dick getting fired from robin, a role he hadn’t even been formally granted by batman yet he felt it in his power to strip him of it. he felt like a pawn in a chess game that gambled his identity and being off of the mind numbing mantra of be better. do better. faster. punch harder. follow orders. be better be better better. and dick was sick of it, so he shed the robin uniform. swallowing it like a bitter pill because he was forced to do so. but nightwing was giving him clarity as of late. the sheer rush, brilliance and exuberance of it all reminded him of when flying was a much simpler task.

however, dick had an annoyingly unwavering loyalty to protecting bruce’s (less batman then bruce. bruce was his father. batman was not. yet nowadays the man himself was forgetting who exactly was the secret identity and who the real person was.) safety and well-being, even if it meant risking another shouting round. so, once dick catches wind of batman’s whereabouts for the night, he decides to help him with Amazo etc., and dick cant help but realize how well they still mesh together when it comes to fighting. the talking part however, did not come naturally anymore. (it used to. it used to be so much easier)

now bruce, is attempting his best to keep dick out of the loop. he knows dick will furious. and dick’s temper is something not many can tame, but bruce would take the risk. he’d rather dick spit on his memory then be dead in his arms (just like jason was, blown to bits when he should’ve been in his room. safe. sleeping after studying for some test not fighting crime with him in the underbelly of Gotham city, or getting dragged along bruce’s self induced fight with the world.)

dick, of course, does not appreciate this and can very easily tell the bruce is trying to get him off the case. dick doesn’t appreciate that in the slightest, and it only makes him want to push more. to fight bruce on every detail and demand he be apart of this because that’s the only way he can get anywhere with him. it was fair to say, that the interrogation with the joker he had to force bruce into taking him too, wasn’t exactly pleasant. he watches, leaning back against the wall as batman has joker by the neck. some part of him hates himself for not being upset about this, like he’s failing his moral code in some way. but he ignores that half, and tries not to feel angry as bruce doesn’t choke joker out like the rat he is. dick wished, in the darkest parts of his mind, that he could burn joker alive, just to watch in vengeful satisfaction that the man who stole his brothers breath wither in pain. ( and watch that fucking laugh die out)

now, the confrontation goes quite similar. except dick is noticing these little things that resemble jason too much it be a coincidence. too much. he knows how jason fights, he’s sparred with him for years and used to spend countless nights in his room trying to emulate his older brothers swift and hard hitting movements in front of his mirror. he always wished he could hit as hard as jason, as dicks strength at the time was his inhuman flexiblity and professional acrobatic skills. now, when he and batman are against the red hood, fuck it doesn’t feel right to dick. it’s all too similar. it wasn’t even the bigger moves that caught his attention but the little moves in stance that screamed at him that it was his brother. he kept shutting the idea down, because if it was possible dick would have made it happen. he would’ve.

dick gets hurt in the aftermath, but bruce must be a fucking comedian if he thinks it’s going to stop him. they get into another argument, bruce talking him down to nothing and dick frustrated that bruce couldn’t see that he’s been doing this for too long to be lectured on it, and that bruce wasn’t atlas. he wasn’t responsible for the world being held up between his two hands. it simmers down to loud silence, like it always does and dick hobbles out. leaning slightly on alfred.

bruce’s hunch is eating him alive. devouring his soul and heart with a satisfying crunch, not sparing crumb. with the revelation that his son could be alive, and the Red Hood of all people, one of the first thoughts that run through his mind is that he could not tell dick. dick could never know, and will never know. it was a hushed promise, one kept inside his chest, locked like all of his unspoken words. it would crush dick, just like it was crushing bruce now. (or maybe it was because if bruce was on the fence about breaking his moral agenda, he knows that dick would hurdle over that fence. he hates that he knows this but he does. dick wears a bleeding heart on his sleeve for his family, especially for jason. this is the same boy that was set on killing zucco all those years ago before jason and him had stopped it.)

(jason’s tasting bitter green as he mulls over why the fuck dick was there. that little idiot was supposed to be at home. safe. not carrying out bruce’s destructive agenda of self proclaimed justice. he didn’t know whether to be mad at bruce or dick. because of course bruce encouraged this shit, eager to force another child soldier into the suit and send him out to die. but God, did it hurt that dick had taken bruce’s side over his even if he didn’t know it was jason. and that stung like a motherfucker. his little brother, whose fond memories were becoming hazed in a cloud of viridecent smoke, had picked bruce’s side. a little part of himself though, shy and hesitant, whispered that he had hurt dick. he had hurt his little brother and he couldn’t justify it no matter how vengeful he was. but he shoved that part aside, trying to ignore its desperate murmurs as they told him that every time he looked at nightwing or whatever the fuck his new name was, he saw his eight year old little brother smiling up at him).

dick knows that bruce thinks he’s covering his tracks well. he is but dick knows bruce, better then bruce thinks he does. so dick is slowly beginning to formulate a hunch of his own, as he spends countless nights rubbing his formerly injured leg and wondering if he really did everything he could’ve to save jason. if there was something he missed. it’s starting to gnaw away at him, until realization settles into his chest after snooping through bruce’s files. then, he’s dashing to get into uniform, giving a breathless and hasty apology to alfred. itsjasonitsjasonitsjasongogogorunrunrun

batman. red hood. bruce. jason. father. son. bruce cannot stomach the vigor in jason’s words and jason’s heart is giving out at the fact that his father won’t do this for him. to end that pathetic excuse of a fucking life, one that’s stolen from so many people, but it still wasn’t up to his moral standards limit. was jason not enough to warrant a sacrifice for the greater good. (was jason’s desperate need to feel safe of that walking nightmare not worthy to overtake any mission)

it happens in a rush. dick is swinging up to the building, the blood pumping through his ears drowning out the screams of his chest. the joker tackles batman as the timer tick tick tick’s away numbingly. suddenly, dick has kicked the joker off and has one hand over his neck while the other smothers itself over his mouth and nose. why didn’t he do this before? why didn’t he kill the thing before? it didn’t even deserve to be called human, so why would any moral standards apply to a human based code. if batman wanted to be the whole representer of pure justice, fine. he could do that. dick wasn’t though. he was going this kill piece of shit then never let go of jason as long as he lived.

suddenly, there’s a pull at the back of dick’s uniform and at the corner of his eye he catches sight of jason being pulled by bruce as well and he’s just about to call out for him when the next thing he knows a blast rockets through his ears and the world goes black.

jason was no where to be found. and bruce ends up having to shove dick into the batmobile before he lunged after the joker, after realizing jason was missing and that the joker was still alive and kicking. the argument that insues? isn’t pretty. in fact it’s their worst. dick had spun around and asked bruce, ‘who are you? batman or bruce? because im not talking to batman, i want to hear why bruce couldn’t do the one thing his son needed! i want to know why bruce thought it was going to be beneficial not to fucking tell me that my brother-Bruce, he’s my brother! that he was alive, because you thought I was gonna pull shit like this? look at that! the exact thing you tried to avoid happened, you know why? because you cannot trust me, and it blew up in your face!’

it goes on. and on. and on. there’s no resolution, or admittance to what happened. bruce simply shuts himself down, stating this wasn’t changing anything. there was a then and a now, one in which bruce harbours enough guilt to crush his shoulders.

there’s a stony resolution in dick’s voice after bruce tells him to get out with more finality to it then he’s ever said it before, when he says, “fine. batman.”

(jason replays it over and over again in his head. the batarang. bruce turning his back to him. the jokers screechy laugh eating at his mind. eruptions of pain from the crowbar. again. again. again. and dick. smothering the joker. a steely resolve in his brothers eyes he never wanted to see but was secretly glad for. it replays like a broken film in his head, cutting and chopping but creaking out the same tune.)

AHHH OK SO i def wanted to do so much more with this ugh but i really wanted it done td so excuse just how unpolished it is, i might go back with some new ideas in it, but i like where i ended it off. this is more or less the ‘detachment’ phase in dick’s relationship with bruce, as hes nearing the end of high school and cannot do this with bruce anymore (oh college is a whooole other ordeal hehe) but i think dick would be better to tim then what he canonically was to jason. (also because dick is totally not on a mission to get his brother back at all costs and fix this family, nope. not at all.), and i think dick just has a lot more anger in this too? and bitterness here ig? just because he had lost his parents, then his brother essentially, and had to deal with being the emotional support to bruce who was falling apart. it’s a heavy load, and dick is absolutely still himself, just when it comes to jason and the joker as well as his family in general, i think he has a lot more anger as well as less control yk? (oh also i have him less in blüdhaven in this lil thing just bc like he’s still in highschool and is in this weird phase with bruce that hes fired etc., but is now yk fully going into the, ‘i’m not speaking to you anymore’ part. SOO THATS IT FOR THAT THANK YALL SO SOOOO MUCH FOR READING UR KINDA ALL THE BEST TBH AND TYSM FOR THE SUGGESTION AGAIN THIS WAS HELLA FUN :)!!

[mikauzoran]

Platonic Adrino/DJ Wifi: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Eight

Read it on AO3: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Eight: Bros First

Alya and Nino were curled up on her bed watching Lupin on her laptop when a slightly impatient knock came at the sliding glass door out to her balcony.

Nino frowned in utter bafflement. “What the hell? How is there someone knocking on your fourth story balcony door?”

Alya stiffened as a wave of dread rolled over her. She glanced at her phone to find she had zero unread texts from Marinette announcing a visit.

That didn’t necessarily mean it wasn’t Ladybug out on her balcony, but Alya took that as a good sign because it would certainly be a lot less awkward and suspicious if it were her boyfriend’s superhero crush out there instead of her own.

“Al?” Nino prompted questioningly.

Alya mentally crossed her fingers as she sat up and set the laptop aside, going over to pull back the curtain, hoping against all hope that it was their resident cat-boy and that Nino would be so distracted that he wouldn’t ask difficult questions.

Chat Noir had his hand raised, just about to knock again, when Alya opened the curtain and unlocked the door.

Instant relief washed across his face. “Oh my gosh, Alya! You will never believe what just happened to me! I have to talk to you.”

And then Nino came up behind Alya and gaped at the hero, making Chat Noir freeze.

“Is Chat Noir on your balcony, or am I hallucinating?” Nino wondered in a state of borderline shock.

“I am so sorry,” Chat spit out, heat rising on his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I…I can explain!”

Nino turned to Alya. “He visits you too?”

Now it was Alya’s turn for confusion. “Wait. He visits you?” she returned incredulously as she looked back and forth between her boyfriend and the superhero.

Nino shrugged. “Yeah. He started coming over, like…when we were fourteen, fifteen. We play video games and watch movies and stuff. Sometimes I run my mixes by him and get his opinion. How long has he been visiting you?”

Alya pursed her lips, turning to frown reproachfully at Chat Noir. “You’ve been visiting him for years?”

“I can explain?” Chat didn’t sound so sure as his shoulders rose up to meet his ears. “Or maybe I should come back some other time. I’m clearly crashing your date.”

Alya rolled her eyes and grabbed Chat Noir by the arm, hauling him into the room. “Get in here.”

She quickly relocked the door behind him and drew the curtain before turning back to Nino and pointing accusatorially at Chat Noir. “Do you know who he is?”

Nino’s brow gradually furrowed as he felt even more lost. “Um…yeah. He’s Chat Noir. You run a blog about him?”

Alya groaned, dropping her head as she shook it. “No. No. Like, do you know his secret identity?”

“No,” Nino snorted as if she’d made some ludicrous suggestion. But then he paused, and the amusement left him. “Holy crap. Wait. Do you?”

Alya turned her mystified expression on Chat Noir. “How does he not know who you are if you two have been hanging out for years? Is my boyfriend dumb?”

“Hey,” Nino whined.

Chat put his hands up in surrender. “No. He just never asked, and I didn’t tell him.” He looked back to Nino. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t tell Alya either. I’ve never told anyone. She just figured me out.”

“Okay?” Nino replied, feeling like he should say something but not really sure why he should care. “I mean…that’s fine, Mec. I get the secret identities thing. You’re not supposed to tell me, so it’s not really a bad thing that I don’t know. I don’t have to know what name appears on your birth certificate to be your friend, so…it doesn’t really matter.”

Chat Noir winced, and his expression turned guilty as he looked at Nino with eyes pleading for forgiveness. “It kind of does matter, and I’m sorry I never said anything…. Detransformation.”

Nino’s eyes widened as the suit faded in a burst of neon green light, leaving Adrien Agreste standing before him in the Ladybug pyjamas Marinette had made him for his birthday two years prior.

“I am so sorry,” Adrien whimpered, bracing for the fallout.

Nino let out a guttural curse and then repeated it three times in quick succession.

Adrien winced, repeating, “I’m sorry. If I could have told you I would have, but Ladybug is super strict about the secret identities rule.”

“No, it’s cool,” Nino assured lightheadedly, still staring at Adrien like he had just revealed that he had been leading a double life for more than half a decade now. “Seriously. I totally get it. I’m just… Holy crap, you’re Chat Noir,” Nino began to snicker maniacally, sounding like he was hyperventilating.

“Yeah,” Adrien replied lamely, grimacing. “I’m Chat Noir…. Are you okay?”

“I need to sit down,” Nino announced, promptly sinking to the floor and flopping over onto his back.

“Babe, are you okay?” Alya spoke up tentatively, starting to get concerned in earnest.

“Yep,” he continued to laugh. “All good. My best bro is just a superhero. That’s all. Normal day.”

“I am so sorry,” Adrien reiterated, not sure what else to say or do.

Alya’s reaction had seemed so blasé. He hadn’t been prepared for Nino to freak.

“No.” Nino held up a hand to stop him. “Seriously. It’s good. You’re good. I’m just…processing. Poorly. I mean… I’m sorry, Mate. I feel like I should have known or something.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t,” Alya hummed. “He told you about his mystery girl crush, didn’t he? How did you think he knew her?”

Nino threw up his hands in exasperation without moving up off the floor. “I don’t know! I thought she dropped by his house or something! I’ve had a standing friend date night with Chat Noir the past five years! It wasn’t too farfetched to think she visited Adrien like that too. I mean, I would totally sneak in to see him and break him out to go have some fun if I had a Miraculous permanently. That would be my number one abuse of power.”

“That’s really sweet,” Adrien cooed, touched that the thought had even crossed Nino’s mind.

“Romantic rooftop escapades with your girlfriend wouldn’t be top on your list?” Alya snickered, amused.

“Bros before you-know-whats,” Nino announced vehemently, causing Alya to laugh harder.

She turned to smirk at Adrien, elbowing his arm. “Well, good to know where his priorities stand. I always suspected he loved you more.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, returning the playful nudge. “He loves us the same but differently.”

Nino groaned, hissing a sibilant curse as a realization struck him.

“What?” Alya inquired, arching an eyebrow as her boyfriend covered his face with his hands and rolled around on the floor in mortification.

“You okay, Mec?” Adrien inquired hesitantly, leaning in a bit to peer down at his best friend curiously.

“No!” Nino whined, propping himself up on his elbows. “You let me make a total fool of myself!”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. He debated making a remark to the effect of Nino making a fool of himself with or without Adrien’s help but ultimately decided against it, instead going with, “When?”

Nino pointed accusingly. “You let me go on and on about my embarrassing crush on Chat Noir!”

Alya clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. To be fair, she’d felt a little dumb when she’d discovered that she’d been raving to Marinette about her superhero alter ego all these years, but Nino seemed more embarrassed whereas Alya had been able to easily laugh at herself in retrospect.

“I was flattered,” Adrien insisted, crouching down so that he was on Nino’s level. “Seriously. It’s not a big deal. I’m used to people fawning over Adrien’s stupid model face all the time, and Chat Noir’s fans can be a little…um…weird…most of the time, so it was really refreshing that someone thought he was attractive as a person,” he admitted sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Nino sat up, frowning at Adrien, clearly not impressed. “Dude, I went on, like, rants about your ass.”

Adrien shrugged. “I have a very nice asset, and it looks objectively better in magical leather. You have good taste in men.”

Nino’s frown morphed into a miffed stare of disapproval. “This isn’t weird for you at all, is it?”

Adrien flashed another sheepish grin as he shook his head. “Afraid not. Besides, even if it was, I’m sure you’re completely cured of your temporary insanity now that you know just who it is under the mask.”

Nino let out a bark of laughter, roughly tussling Adrien’s hair. “Fat chance, Mec! Nah, now that I know, I’m even more in love with you.” He turned to Alya to mutter a quick, “Sorry, Al,” before returning his attention to his best friend. “Adrien Agreste, will you marry me?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Adrien cackled, nearly knocking Nino over backwards as he launched himself at his friend, wrapping Nino in a tight hug. “Can we have an April wedding? I’m a spring, so I look best in bright, light, warm colours. I think you’re probably an autumn, so deep, warm colours would suit you best. We might need to hire a consultant.”

“Whatever you say, My Love,” Nino tittered, his sides beginning to hurt from laughter.

Alya gave a snort as she put her hands on her hips. “Hey! What am I? Yesterday’s garbage? I thought we were getting married!”

“You don’t even believe in marriage,” Nino continued to laugh.

Alya crossed her arms and gave her head a little toss. “True, but your pestering was starting to make me come around to the idea.”

“Well, how about Adrien can be my sexy househusband, and you can be my wild, adventurous lover?” he suggested.

Adrien shrugged, pulling back out of the hug. “I’m down with that.”

Alya considered for a moment and then shrugged as well. “Yeah, okay. That works for me. I don’t actually believe in marriage anyway.”

Nino gave his eyes a fond roll, turning to Adrien. “I’ll wear her down one of these days.”

“Definitely,” Adrien agreed and then paused, suddenly looking uncertain. “…Are we okay?”

Nino pushed all joking aside and really looked at his friend. “Yeah. I’m not mad or whatever you were worried about. I get that you couldn’t tell me, even though you wanted to. When I first became Carapace, I wanted to tell you too, but Ladybug was pretty clear about the rules, so…”

He inhaled slowly, taking Adrien in. “But, man… Holy crap…. You’re Chat Noir.”

Adrien nodded timidly. “Yeah.”

Abruptly, tears sprang forth from the corners of Nino’s eyes and began spilling down his cheeks. “You get beaten up a lot.”

Adrien winced, replying softly, “Yeah.”

“That’s…” Nino swallowed and tried again. “That was hard enough to watch when you were just Chat Noir…. I don’t think I can do this, knowing it’s you getting thrown around like a rag doll.”

“Sorry,” Adrien whispered, wishing there was some way to make it easier. “I really am sorry, but it’s my job.”

Nino’s eyes widened in fear, and he cursed once more, breathlessly.

Adrien cocked his head to the side in question.

Nino shook his head, his bottom lip beginning to tremble as the tears came harder and faster. He took Adrien’s face in his hands, and his voice cracked as he whimpered, “You d-die…sometimes.”

Adrien held Nino’s gaze, mountains of apologies filling his eyes as he nodded sadly in confirmation.

It was then that Alya beckoned to Plagg who had curled up on top of one of the speakers on her desk. “Cheese,” she mouthed, motioning for him to follow her out into the kitchen to give the guys some privacy.

Plagg willingly complied, floating over to hide in the hood of her hoodie as she slipped soundlessly out of the room.

Meanwhile, Nino, closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying to hold in the whirling spiral of emotions he was feeling.

Adrien scooted closer, leaning in to rest his forehead against Nino’s. “Shhh,” he coaxed, wrapping his arms around his friend. “It’s okay. I’m okay, Nino.”

“Sometimes you’re not, though,” Nino hiccupped bitterly.

“Only for a little while,” Adrien added, trying to appease. “I try to be careful. I really did hear you when you chewed Chat Noir out for being reckless. I was listening, and I’ve tried not to jump into danger unnecessarily…. It’s just…sometimes it is necessary.”

Nino pulled back to look Adrien in the face, his eyes filled with fierce determination. “I need you to do something for me, promise me something.”

Adrien readily nodded. “Of course.”

“Talk to Ladybug for me,” Nino instructed. “Convince her to give me the Turtle Miraculous full-time.”

Adrien’s eyes widened in surprise. “But—”

“—No,” Nino cut him off. “Convince her. Don’t take no for an answer. Don’t tell me it’s dangerous or some crap like that. Bros don’t let bros stay sidelined. I can protect you. I can keep you safe. Let me help, Adrien. Let me be your shield. That’s what my job is supposed to be.”

Slowly, Adrien began to nod. As much as he wanted his best friend as far away from danger as possible, he completely understood how Nino felt. If their situations were reversed, Adrien would do anything he could to make Nino safer.

“Okay. I’ll talk to her,” Adrien promised, “and I will bug the hell out of her until she gives in.”

Nino let out a long sigh of relief as he nodded. “Okay. All right. Good enough for now…. Thanks, Mec.”

“Thank you,” Adrien stressed, leaning in to press a butterfly’s wing beat of a kiss to Nino’s cheek.

Nino laughed, pulling Adrien into a crushing hug. He gave Adrien’s cheek a sloppy smooch, declaring, “Love you, Man.”

Adrien returned the laughter with interest, settling into Nino’s embrace, finding comfort there. “Love you too.”

[followusontweeters]

Of Life and Love

This is a Demily fic (Derek Morgan/Emily Prentiss). Please let me know if you want me to continue posting the story (It’s 20 chapters in so far)

Summary:  Before Doyle, Emily and Derek had an arrangement. It was unorthodox but it worked for them. Then Emily died. She’s back now and neither are sure their lives will ever be the same. Chapter 1

“When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.”

At first their relationship had been forged by long nights, tough cases and too much tequila.  If the team knew, they never let on.  They left before the sun had breached and left with no sign that the other was there, minus their scent on the other’s pillows.

Neither were in a place for a relationship, and they knew that with their jobs, relationships were hard to keep.  Rossi and Hotchner were the poster children for failed marriages due to their jobs.  So what they had, the easiness of it, it was good.  Until it wasn’t.  Neither was sure when it changed, when they changed.  Maybe it was when Morgan stayed over and they started to drive to work together.  Or maybe it was when Prentiss wore his Chicago Bears jersey to the annual. Redskins game that the team went to every year.  Or maybe it was when Morgan went out and ignored every lady that hit on him, preferring to use the time to trade texts with Emily.   However and whenever it happened, it happened.  They went from easy friends with benefits to a couple without ever acknowledging it. 

Then Ian Dolyle happened, or the fallout of Ian Doyle happened.  Seven long months he thought that he had lost her.  For seven long months he mourned her death harder than the rest of the team, which was saying something considering the fact that Reid had cried in JJ’s arms for 10 weeks straight.  Seven long months he drank, he worked out, he put himself through his own penance. Had he been able to get there just a few seconds earlier.

Then it happened.  Then the dam broke and Hotch and JJ told them the secret.  The secret that Emily wasn’t dead.  He went through every emotion possible in seconds.  The anger at his boss and his friend, that they would keep that news away from HIM.  The relief, that Emily was still alive.  The sadness, that whatever they had was gone.  And then the happiness and joy that washed over him finally seeing her.  His vision was clouded with tears that he blinked away quickly.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.  She walked in like nothing had changed, but they all knew that things could never be the same.  Their eyes met and she dropped her head.  

“Sorry.”  She whispered, so soft even he had to strain to hear her.

It wasn’t until the case was solved that they had some time alone.  A few moments before boarding the jet, but still some time alone.

“Derek…”

He turned slowly, his face set and hard.  

“Derek, I’m so sorry.”  She whispered, her voice wavering.  “But we couldn’t tell anyone…”

He knew why and he didn’t fault her for it.  If she hadn’t - if JJ and Hotch hadn’t - Emily would definitely be dead,  Swallowing his anger and his pride, Derek walked over and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug.  He held her against his chest and pressed his lips to the top of her head.  “I’m so fucking happy that you’re alive.”  He whispered softly.  “I...I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Me neither.  I couldn’t contact anyone, no social media...he would’ve…”. 

Derek shook his head and pressed a finger to her lips.  “Stop. I get it.  You had to stay safe and I’m glad that JJ and Hotch were able to help you in doing that.”  He held her softly, until the rest of the team arrived and he reluctantly let her go.  If he could, he would’ve held her for the rest of the trip home and for however long she would’ve let him.  But not here, not right now.  Things were balanced precariously, not just between them, but between everyone and he knew he couldn’t ruin it.  

So he would wait.

At least for now, he knew that she was safe.

Sitting across from her in the jet, he couldn’t help but smile, listening to the softness of her voice fill the small cabin and her laugh, the tinkling and dancing raindrops, wrap around him.  And for the first time in seven months, he felt the weight, the tightness that had wrapped itself around his chest, loosen and lift.  He would be alright.  He would go home to an empty house tonight, but he would sleep without nightmares.  He would sleep without waking up in a cold sweat.  He would wake up without the heavy vengeance in heart. He would wake up knowing that Emily Prentiss was alive and right now that’s all he needed.  

They fell back into an easy rhythm at work, paired together more often than not.  Their conversations, full of playful banter, was back as well.  It was like she had never left.  Almost.

She could feel his eyes on her, but whenever she turned to look he was looking away.  He was as protective as ever, perhaps more so.  He always took that half step in front of her, just in case.  

They fell back into whatever rhythm they had before, though this time it was over rum than over tequila.  Emily claimed that tequila gave her a headache, but they both knew it was because of the memory that tequila held for both of them.

She awoke, sore but sated, staring down at his chiseled chest, her fingers trailing over his tattoo with butterfly touches.  She thought that she had memorized every tattoo, every little dot of ink that adorned his body, but there was something new.  Small.  Something that no one would know unless he was topless and you looked close.  The name Emily, written in her tight neat script and then 2011.  The year she died.  Sitting up and pulling the sheet with her, Emily looked down at Derek.  He flushed, his skin growing warm and he sat up slowly.  

“That’s my signature.”

“Yeah.”

“And the date.”

He shrugged.  “I thought I lost you and I wanted something to remember you by.  You had some papers on your desk that had your signature on it.”

Her fingers traced over the new ink on his skin.  

“I can get it removed.”

“No.  Keep it.”  She didn’t elaborate on her feelings about it, but got out of bed and grabbed her underwear and bra that were tossed aside.  “I’ll see you at work.  I’m gonna go home and shower and change my clothes.”

Derek arched his eyebrows.  “They know.  About us.  Everyone does.”

Emily shrugged and tugged on her clothes.  “They might, but at least this doesn’t feed into their gossip.”  She said leaning over and kissing him strongly.  “I’ll see you at work.”

Nodding, Derek watched Emily grab the rest of her clothes, tugging on her jacket.  “Hey Em,” He called out, watching as she turned slowly.  

“Yeah?”

The words were heavy on his tongue and he gave her the cocky smile she was so used to, and loved seeing.  

“My turn to grab coffee for the teams.  Anything special?”  He asked nonchalantly, covering up the comment he really wanted to say.

“Just my usual.”

“Black, with a sticky bun.”  Derek repeated watching as Emily gathered her things.

“I’ll see you at work, Derek.”

“Yeah.”  He said as he slowly got to his feet.  “See you later, Em.”  Derek got up and headed for the shower.  His fingers ran over the tattoo, the ink embedded in his skin.  Her name, permanently etched on his body, on his soul.  It was one of the few things that he thought he could do to memorialize the woman he loved.

Loved.  He knew that he loved her.  He knew that he wanted her to be a permanent part of his life, but he didn’t know how.  He had the words, but he didn’t want her to jump.  He knew, better than anyone, that their fight or flight response was higher than most people’s.  There were three options in this scenario.  She ran.  Like ran ran.  Ran for the hills and their partnership and friendship would be fractured and never be the same again.  One of them would have to transfer units and break up the team.  The second would be that she would just say no, or argue, or laugh.  His ego would be crushed and the same thing would happen; their friendship would never be the same, their partnership would never be the same, and the team would break up.  Or, she could say that she loved him too.  That, he didn’t know the outcome of. 

Sighing, he finished up with his shower and tugged on clean clothes, running his hand to flatten the cotton long sleeved he wore.  It took him less than 5 minutes to get ready.  Brush his teeth, shave, put on deodorant and then slide his feet into his shoes.  It always amazed him how long it took Emily to get ready.  With other women it took, sometimes hours, to get ready.  With Emily, she almost kept pace with him, and yet she looked so so gorgeous.  He shook his head and grabbed his keys before heading out the door.

Some things never changed.

Some things you got written on your skin.

[tactyl-ymon]

DnD session recap - Service and Struggle

I’d been trying to write this recap since mid december because god there’s just so many emotions in game at the moment and it’s very draining to write about. We got a new barbarian and lost one of the rogues as they had to move interstate

We open with a lone figure paddling through an otherwise still ocean as the moonlight silhouettes a large country that wasn't there a month ago. The figure, drawn forward by a feeling in their gut that this is where they're supposed to be, makes landfall and begins lumbering through the forest as fast as her turtle like legs will allow. It is hours of running peppered with the occasional break to curse whoever thought making towns so far apart was a good idea before our new friend sees the telltale signs of town gates, a place called Merigan it seems. As the guards size up the towering tortle laden with weapons, they shakily ask the barbarian her name and what business she has. Donna Tello Tortellini introduces herself and says she's just looking for a place to sleep for the night, the guards look warily at her large frame and then mention if she's got coin there's a tavern nearby that probably had a room, otherwise there's a stable a few streets away if they promised not to cause a ruckus, the last group they had let camp there were just a constant bother to the guards and town in general whenever they came through. 

Donna Tello asks about the group and it being another in a long line of slow nights the guards escort her towards the tavern, surely nobody could be that much of a nuisance? The guards tell her all about the wicked group that calls themselves Tactyl Y'mon, about the time they had pretended to be ghoulish monsters attacking the town gates and the time they'd arrived with a lively boulder that was very protective over a busted old cart that they wouldn't let anyone get near and the time they had managed to save several townsfolk including the town leaders wife and then tossed his house after staying there the night and got several of the guards drunk, stole one of their pants and jumped through a familys roof before screaming and jumping through their window. As Donna Tello thanks the guards for the hopefully tall tales and mentions she'll definitely try to avoid the group if she can, she enters the tavern for the night and to think about where she might find some decent coin to help her explorations.

It's just before dawn the following day as Eridol is startled awake by the telltale whines of his dog signaling that he needs to go out before the very not telltale sound of his dog screaming about how he needs to pee. Which is enough to slip Eridol's already shoddy grasp on reality with everything that's happened the last few days, this has to be a dream … or insanity, who cares, best to just throw away the whole suitcase of emotions at this point and take his suddenly very talkative dog for a walk. The important questions are asked on their jaunt through the keep, “Could you always talk and were just shy?” “If this were fake, you'd tell me right Pickle?” “Where do you enjoy pats the most?” It's around here that Eridol gets a very familiar reality check in the shape of a golden dragonborn standing just outside the gates of the keep talking to one of the guards, former friend and one time follower of the god of murder, Drackuss. 

With nowhere to run, no weapons to defend himself and no backup Eridol is faced with doing the one thing he swore he would never do, have an emotional conversation with someone who shattered his trust. But Eridol still has his last trump card to get out of the conversation. Freeze up and become unresponsive. Whether Drackuss actually notices or not is irrelevant, the former paladin barrels through what amounts to an apology for how he acted when he tried to brutally disembowel one of their companions before going on a one man murder quest across the country, but how Eridol was part of stopping him doing awful things and he owes the small cleric for that. Eridol breaks and shouts that as far as he is concerned nobody owed him anything, whatever help Eridol gave was balancing a ledger or trying to make up for his own failings. Repayment for all the times that Drackuss had saves the party from otherwise lethal blows. Repayment for Eridol being too far in his own head to notice anything was wrong. Repayment for one of the earliest memories Eridol has of the dragonborn spending days in a rundown church trying to save sick children from a plague. That version of Drackuss deserved a second chance to make his own path but Eridol didn't have to be a part of it and that if Drackuss actually cared what Eridol thought they wouldn't even be having this conversation.

Several familiar shapes creep into the periphery during the silence that follows. The remaining members of Tactyl Y'mon, Whisky, Veiraen, Septima and Emmi wander up from the keep as Core, the groups sometimes government contact and Sukaren, a very imposing blue dragonborn who had been in charge of the front lines to the entry portals to the country march up from behind Drackuss. Core begins by formally thanking the group for everything they had done to shift the country back into the prime material plane and that word had gotten around that the group was at least partially responsible for the shift, people were calling us champions and the like and that there would be some exhibition matches being held in the main city and the group was invited to participate in two back to back. That one would offer a much larger challenge, but if the group could come out victorious in both they'd receive a significant reward for the show. 

Core also goes on to mention that there seems to have been some unforeseen fallout from the whole fabric of reality shifting back into place thing. Hundreds of criminals seemingly disappeared in an instant at the time of the shift back to the material plane. Murderers, cultists, thieves all set to wither in the dark for the rest of their lives gone in an instant with no evidence of what happened and with the official business out of the way, Core suggests walking to the nearest town to spend the rest of the day drinking all of that away like the semi-functional alcoholic sponge he is, the group not ever really needing a reason to drink but having just so many they could choose from decide to go with him. Drackuss shrugs, mentioning that he did what he needed to and that Sukaren and him were heading back to Principium to continue training.

As the two lumbering lizards retreat back to their training regiment, half of the group wanders into the keep to put on pants leaving Core and Emmi standing outside in awkward silence as the last moments of dawn fade away. With nobody else around, Core once again mentions that Emmi’s mother, Sharona really wants to talk to her as soon as possible. That she has so much to apologise for and that she had a plan to find out what happened to Emmi’s father all those years ago. That if Emmi was willing, Sharona would be waiting outside of Principium on a ship for the next week. The silence that follows is almost deafening as she considers the chance in front of her. Inside the keep, Veiraen approaches Eridol and asks if he really meant what he said about Drackuss, that everything he’d done was just rebalancing a ledger and whether that extended to how he thought about the rest of the group. Eridol still not quite over everything that happened outside quietly says that he doesn’t know, that he genuinely cares about everyone and is so afraid of losing people he cares about again. Eridol realises what he said and stiffens before taking a breath and apologising. Everyone deserved better than he could offer, but that he would be a better friend if Veiraen would give him another chance. Veiraen agrees before asking if he could stab Eridol again for funsies and the status quo of bickering siblings is restored like nothing happened. 

Several hours and jugs of grain alcohol later, the group find themselves in a tavern inside Merigan and are alternating between loudly trying to guess what they’d face in the fight pits with Core and how to best announce their awesomeness to the waiting crowd, it’s around the third shout of ‘We’re Tactyl Y’mon, we could fight a swan” that the shouts get the attention of the large tortle barbarian who had been sitting at the bar who with the fading memories of the guards saying to avoid the group, she gets up and introduces herself, saying that she had overheard the group was going to be in some upcoming exhibition matches at the main city’s amphitheatre and that she was a decent fighter and was looking to gather some gold for her travels if the group thinks they could use the extra set of hands in the fights. This is basically all the group needs to hear before collectively welcoming her to the rag tag family and then several rounds later getting around to asking her name. With introductions out of the way and a new friend made, the group staggers slowly back to the keep, singing songs the whole way.

In the coming days, the group train half heartedly before making their way to the capital city of Principium. They enter the familiar halls of the arena that the exhibition matches are held in to raucous applause and quickly take a win in the first fight, much to the joy of the crowd watching. A quick break later and they re-enter for the second match. Whatever the group was expecting is blown out of the air as from the other side of the arena enters faces very familiar to the group. Core, Sukaren, Drackuss, Rorstaad the council member, an old lizardfolk monk ally and a lumbering form of a hill giant with a grudge against the party’s cleric all appear across from them and against the superior combatants and the well oiled teamwork of their opponents Tactyl Y'mon quickly begin to fall. Eridol and Emmi fall within seconds, Veiraen temporarily falls shortly after but by the time he gets his footing again there isn’t anything that can be done. It is only 20 seconds after the fight begins that it ends. Sukaren spits that their time is worth more than mopping up such disappointing fodder. The crowd watching all of this sits deathly quiet, no cheers, no boos, no movement as Tactyl Y’mon quietly leaves the arena, thoroughly defeated by their betters.

Minutes later in the waiting room of the fight pit, Tactyl Y’mon sit and lick their proverbial and literal wounds as Core and Sukaren enter and as Core splits off to speak with Emmi, Sukaren attends to everyone else in what amounts to a “I am both mad and disappointed in all of you” conversation she goes over how this proved to her that the group is not worthy of the champions/defenders of the realm status that the commonfolk believed about them. They were nothing but mercenaries who had bumblefucked their way to success, idiots with no real skills or teamwork, just lucky that they hadn’t faced a serious threat. Sukaren dared any one of them to prove her wrong, to say something that would justify how poorly they just performed. We leave the session with Core and Emmi having a whispered conversation about what’s really important and Emmi rushes out of the room in between all the shouting, making her way to a ship docked nearby, wordlessly hugging her mother before helping her pull up the anchor and pointing the ship towards the setting sun over the ocean.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Costras del Corazón

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen Genre: Angst/Family Character: Law

What do you do when you find out something about a man who died thirteen years ago - something that might change everything you thought you knew about him - while trying to sort out what to do next with your life because you hadn't planned past the point you expected to die?

Law was happy to be back on the Polar Tang. While he was admittedly not free from his bizarre allies with approximately half of them now travelling as his guests, there were certain perks to the situation.

First off, he was in charge. The more sensible Straw Hats had looked to him for leadership when without their captain in Dressrosa (by which he means Nico Robin at least had the grace not to abandon him to the whims of Cavendish until he gave her the okay), but there was something satisfying about knowing that when he issued an order, it would be followed. There was no more fear of being overridden in his planning by something as simple as his fellow captain's hunger; while his crew were not afraid to voice their own opinions (he still remembered the dispute over their delay in entering the Grand Line, and let's not even start on convincing them to leave him alone on Punk Hazard with no back up), they at least still did whatever he ordered.

Secondly, and right now most importantly, he had his own room. It was a blissful paradise he had never quite managed to fully appreciate before his weeks travelling first on the Thousand Sunny and then, although not as torturous, on the Luffy-Senpai-Go (that was still a ridiculous name and he couldn't even begin to fathom how Mugiwara-ya had been able to stand that level of fanaticism aimed at him).

His own room. His own bed.

As much as he had planned to stick to the deck to keep watch on Caesar, the Straw Hats had had other ideas. Even if you excluded the obvious – their captain literally catapulting him into the men's quarters and onto a bunk – several other members of the crew had their own creative methods. It wasn't worth paying the extortionate fee that Nami-ya imposed for refusal and Nico-ya… well, he had been later informed by a tearfully sympathetic Robo-ya that he was not the first male to be on the receiving end of her inventive uses of her devil fruit when she wasn't immediately obeyed. At least Tony-ya's ridiculously cute kicked-reindeer face was only with the intention of persuading him to rest in the infirmary bed, away from the cacophony the sleeping male Straw Hats caused in their sleep.

Those were the only ones he could actively name, but Bone-ya had more than once played a lullaby that sent him to sleep without his consent. He could never prove it was intentional (even though it clearly was). That would not have been disastrous, except for the fact he always fell asleep on deck, and woke in some bunk or other in the men's cabin. This was where the act of conspiracies between the Straw Hats became clear, as if it hadn't already. For all that he was a walking medical miracle (and Law felt he was justified in his expertise on that particular subject), Bone-ya had no muscular mass to give him the strength to carry the tall individual that Law was. His bones were unsupported, and expectedly fragile, so it was clear that while a vital part of the plan, it was not him carrying the sleeping Law away from his guard post. That left Zoro-ya, Kuroashi-ya and Robo-ya as viable candidates. He dismissed Nose-ya for the terror the sniper clearly held for him. Tony-ya and Mugiwara-ya were not impossible, but he believed that Tony-ya would take him to the infirmary, and he liked to believe he would not be able to sleep through Mugiwara-ya's usual mode of transportation across the ship.

The point was, he was back on his own submarine, in his own room, in blissful silence. Three facts he swore never to take for granted again.

Especially with a guaranteed reunion with Mugiwara-ya on the horizon. He wasn't idealistic, but the fact was that somehow the insane teenage captain always seemed to beat the odds, especially as he had half his crew to return to (how could he possibly forget Marineford and the latent fallout from that?). Mugiwara-ya would return eventually, whatever Big Mom thought.

Still, for now he was going to take advantage of this blessed silence. His crew had orders not to disturb him unless in an emergency (by which he meant, and expressed, Kaido or any of his senior crew. Anything less could be dealt with by either Shachi, Penguin, Bepo or Jean Bart, depending on the situation).

Making sure his door was well and truly locked, he gently set Kikoku down on her stand before flopping with none of his usual elegance backwards onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was dark blue, matching the feathered jumper he owned. While the external panels of the Polar Tang were bright yellow, as well as some of the interior metal panelling, everything with insulation was either white (the infirmary and the infirmary only – Law had had enough of that particular colour) or some shade of blue. Blue worked nicely with the yellow, and more importantly had no immediately negative connotations. He didn't need his own ship triggering the residual PTSD he was more than aware he possessed.

He supposed it was a good a time as any to think about what had happened on Dressrosa. If nothing else, he needed to get a handle on his own mental state now that Doflamingo was out of the way, hopefully for good. At the time he'd been gunning for the bastard's death, but in retrospect, he was glad Mugiwara-ya hadn't dealt a fatal blow. His unexpected conversation with Sengoku had forcibly thrown new light on his situation.

Which was one of the things he needed to sort out.

Don't try and find a reason for someone's love. In retrospect, it was obvious. Love was instinctive – while he had to forcibly pull back his mental armour to admit it, he had never needed a reason to love his parents, or Lami. If he was brutally honest with himself, 'he's actually trying to save my life' was no reason to love Cora-san like he did, either.

If he had no reasons for his own love (and while he was at it, this seemed like a good time to remind himself that he loved his crew too, even if he wasn't as obvious about it as, say, Mugiwara-ya), then he should be able to accept that Cora-san had had no reason either. It wasn't exactly as if Law had given him many. He'd tried to kill him, then blackmailed him, and then spent the next six months of travelling being the most ungrateful brat it was possible to be. No, Cora-san had no reason to love him. But according to his memories, and Sengoku, he had.

It sounded so easy, when he laid it out in his head like that. Logical. If only his heart could accept what his brain was telling him. That Cora-san really could have loved the broken boy he was for no reason (while he was at it, this extended to his crew – what, exactly, had he done to earn their unshakable loyalty to the extent that not one of them had left while at Zou, despite the opportunity and everything he'd done).

He rolled over onto his front with a groan, burying his face in his pillow, and taking a moment to appreciate that it was his pillow, after so long. Law had not been one to feel pathetic notions like home-sickness since the first, and only, sleepover his classmates had organised and dragged him to when he was eight (he attributed that particular blip to the fact that Lami had come down with a cold that very day and his big brother instincts were screaming that he should be there with her, not awkwardly bundled in a sleeping bag in the corner of some classmate's bedroom watching the rest play games as he flicked through a medical journal two levels above what he was supposed to be reading at the time), but there was no denying that Kikoku, while an amazing weapon, was not such a brilliant pillow, and aside from the Straw Hat interventions she had been his only pillow since he'd disembarked on Punk Hazard all those months ago.

He almost hadn't come back to his pillow, his bed, his room. Let alone his ship or his crew, and there was more than a little guilt that came with that revelation. He didn't regret his actions on both Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, but the idea that his crew would have waited for him forever, if they had to, was sobering, and another revelation to add to the growing list.

Another revelation he should have realised years ago, but his obsession with defeating Doflamingo had overridden that sort of common sense.

And Doflamingo had nearly won. Had outsmarted Law at his own game because of the one ridiculous fact that no-one could have predicted, but Law still kicked himself for not anticipating it, if only because it fit so well.

Donquixote Doflamingo was a tenryubito. A fallen one, admittedly, but still one with enough sway he could get the newspapers to lie just to take down Law. He still didn't know how many members of the Family had known that particular tidbit. At the very least, it had not been openly discussed during the years he had been with them, and Baby 5 and Buffalo hadn't known then. They could never keep secrets from him (for him was a different matter entirely; he'd learnt the art of manipulation young).

Trebol had known. Vergo, too – hell, Vergo had even warned him, in his own twisted way. To that end, it was safe to assume Pica and Diamante were also aware, as his top executives. Law wondered if Cora-san had known. As the original Corazón, it was likel-

Law's blood ran cold.

Of course Cora-san had known. It would have been impossible for him not to have known that about his brother. Mainly because they were brothers and if Doflamingo was a former tenryubito, then that meant Cora-san was too.

He hadn't made the connection immediately. He should have done, fixated as he had been on the fact that Doflamingo had killed his own younger brother in cold blood. He'd told Mugiwara-ya, and probably several other people besides. His pitiful condition through much of Dressrosa had dulled his awareness more than he'd admitted, so who knew who else had overheard.

And yet, despite that, and despite being plainly told by Doflamingo what he was, he hadn't made the link.

He wasn't sure he was glad to have made it at all.

The tenryubito were cruel. He'd seen it on Saboady, at the auction house and even walking the streets. Never mind the fact that one of his own crew mates was a former tenryubito slave, although like the Sun Pirates in the past, he'd since had the brand covered by a creative and otherwise-unnecessarily extravagant tattoo of the Heart Pirates jolly roger. It had had to be as extravagant as it was to hide the hoof completely. Law's flag was not made for covering things up, unlike the Sun Pirates'.

Doflamingo had been a perfect example of a tenryubito. Cold, uncaring, and unbearably superior. He treated everyone outside of his Family as scum not even fit to dirty his unnecessarily pointy shoes, and even his own crew he was willing to cast aside if it came to it. If Law had to make a comparison, he'd say that they were the manservants. Of more use than trash, especially once trained, but inferior none the less. It was the attitude that made Law kick himself for not considering the possibility at all, despite its impossibility – he had sailed the Grand Line for three years now, he should know the impossible was simply par for the course on this sea.

Was Cora-san once like that? Law's stomach rolled uncomfortably, and he had to physically still himself while he regained enough control over his bodily functions not to vomit at the idea. The idea that Cora-san could be anything other than kind and loving to a fault was foreign and extremely unwelcome.

He pushed away his early memories of Cora-san with a scowl. Just because the klutz had acted cruel towards him, and the other children, didn't mean there was anything genuine behind the frown. He'd probably learnt those faces, that attitude, from his life in Marejois, but there was no way he'd ever done that for real.

Law decided it was best for his sanity if he stopped that train of thought right there before he started thinking the worst of Cora-san. The past didn't matter. Cora-san had saved his life, had taken him from hospital to hospital despite it being an exercise in futility-

Had spoken to the doctors in a manner that demanded obedience regardless of their personal feelings, and burnt down hospitals when he'd been disobeyed.

Law had found that touching, once. A sign of how far Cora-san was willing to go for him. A show of how much love the kind-hearted man held.

With his new revelation, it drew uncomfortable parallels to what he knew of tenryubito behaviour. An order, and excessive punishment if denied, just because they could.

You didn't need love to reach that level of indignity. Besides, he was certain the ability to love had been bred out of the tenryubito generations ago.

No. He refused to follow that line of thinking. If there was one thing he must not – could not – doubt, it was that Cora-san loved him. If he lost that conviction, then his crew would stand for nothing. Heart Pirates. His grinning jolly roger. Doflamingo had not been incorrect about the influence.

He shifted slightly, and froze as the movement brought his attention to the fact that his pillow – his beloved, never to be taken for granted again pillow – was damp.

It had not been damp when he had initially faceplanted it.

Plausible deniability could only get Law so far, so a single tattooed finger ran along the prominent bags below his eyes. The salty tear it picked up was unsurprising, but unwelcome.

He hadn't cried since Minion Island (tears of raw frustration and pain in Dressrosa did not count). Not since Cora-san had died (before that had been Cora-san saying all those things when he thought he was asleep, and then it was getting back to Flevance territory and that was still too raw so Law cut off his mental recollection then and there).

That now, thirteen years later, Cora-san was once again responsible for his tears did not escape him. It was always the ones you loved that hurt you the most, one way or another. Law was particularly aware of this (it was why he'd sent his crew away, to the elusive Zou and far far away from Doflamingo and his influences. If he lost the ones he loved a third time, he didn't think there'd be enough of him to even attempt to reassemble).

He had to trust in Cora-san. He had his memories, and while he could now see some aspects that had potentially stemmed from his social beginnings, Cora-san was too open, too klutzy, for it all to be an act.

He ruthlessly silenced the part of his brain – part that sounded a little too much like Doflamingo for comfort – that pointed out he'd been a successful Marine spy for at least as long as he'd known him.

He couldn't doubt Cora-san's motives. Not now.

Not ever.

It wasn't a watertight fix to his psyche. There were gaping holes that he'd only badly patched with worn tarpaulin and fraying ropes, but it would do for now. Cora-san had been a tenryubito. Cora-san had been an exception – kind and caring while his peers, his own brother, had continued their legacy of tyranny.

It didn't matter in the end. Cora-san was Cora-san and one day Law would have to truly analyse what that meant, what his saviour must have gone through and why it hadn't affected him in the same way as Doflamingo despite the fact that they probably went through it together.

One day was not now. He had other things to sort out.

Like the scabs Doflamingo had torn off with something as simple as lead bullets. Like the revelation that his revenge was over and he was still alive.

At least, his revenge should be over. Doflamingo was gone, defeated, and Cora-san was avenged (but not in a way that should unduly upset him, thanks to them not dealing a final, fatal blow). Law had focused on this revenge for so long – thirteen years, half his life and the entirety of the lifespan he'd never dared believe he'd have – that he felt he should still be at a loss.

Perhaps he would be, if he hadn't had his little revelation. If he hadn't let himself dwell on the edge of painful memories that had been supressed by his rage against Doflamingo.

But the rage was gone and the scabs had been torn off. Law had lived his life fuelled by revenge far too long to stop now. There was still the matter – the main matter – that he had involved himself with Doflamingo to achieve in the first place.

Flevance, the nobles that had fled, and the World Government that had used his home town for their own gain, and obliterated it once they could no longer profit.

The One Piece was a tempting target, sure. If he was honest, without his alliance with the Straw Hats – with Mugiwara-ya – he might have truly set his sights on it. The sole survivor of Flevance, becoming the Pirate King in a massive middle finger aimed at the World Government. There was definitely some appeal there, and there was no way he was letting that idiot Eustass-ya get his hands on it.

He might still head for it, just to make sure the red-headed menace didn't get it. But Law was no fool. There was only room for one Pirate King per generation, and it wouldn't be him. Somewhere along the line – he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment, but he was willing to bet the first time he truly felt the full force of Mugiwara-ya's haki that time on Dressrosa, when a single sandaled foot was the only thing between his face and Doflamingo was probably at least part of the lynchpin – he had fallen into Mugiwara-ya's pace.

He believed in Mugiwara-ya. Believed in him in a way he'd never been able to believe in anyone since Flevance burnt to the ground. Cora-san had come close, but there had always been the unspoken elephants in the room – a spy, a Marine, worked for the organisation that threw Law's life into chaos that first time, lies about health – that a young hurting Law couldn't quite push past.

There was nothing like that with Mugiwara-ya. He was straightforward and honest. Laughably so, for a pirate. He had no interest in planning, to the point that he would ignore anything that wasn't 'punch the problem repeatedly until it goes away' but in all his unpredictableness, he was predictable.

At least, there seemed to be a trick to it. Law hadn't worked out all the nuances yet – the other pirate had no right being so complex when he seemed so simple – but he was confident he had the main points identified. Loyalty. Trust. Empathy. Protectiveness.

He rubbed his right arm, over the stitches that held it in place while it finished healing (perhaps he should put it in a sling for a while, to reduce the stress, although that would worry his crew). Feigning death didn't mean he had been oblivious to Mugiwara-ya's reaction to its absence, let alone his presumed death.

It had taken more effort that he'd anticipated to stay limp and immobile while his observational haki picked up so many broiling emotions from his ally. At some point, perhaps as early as Punk Hazard itself, Mugiwara-ya had adopted him into his group of nakama. Nose-ya had confided in him, quietly after they'd set sail for Wano, that to be Mugiwara-ya's nakama did not mean you were part of his crew. Apparently they had other nakama, situated on many islands in both East Blue and the Grand Line, who Mugiwara-ya would do anything for.

It was said in the exact same tone Nose-ya had used when informing him of Mugiwara-ya's unusual definition of 'alliance', and Law found he didn't doubt him at all. Somehow, it was easier to accept his unwilling induction into Mugiwara-ya's nakama with this knowledge. Perhaps because he no longer had to fear he'd be dragged from his own crew by a rubbery limb and a too-large grin.

In retrospect, it had been irrational. Freedom was the most important thing in the world to Mugiwara-ya. He would never strip anyone of it, much less his own nakama.

On the topic of Mugiwara-ya, as well as his original topic of what he would do now, with the memories of Flevance surfacing in a way he hadn't allowed for years, a small recollection made itself known.

Mugiwara-ya had declared war on the World Government.

It wasn't as though he'd forgotten that little fact – that was not something one casually forgot, after all – but his attention had been aimed solely on the takedown of Doflamingo for the last two years, and much of the preceding ones.

Memories of a burning city had surfaced back when he'd first read that news, but he had ruthlessly quashed them, not needing the distraction when he was busy dealing with his other revenge.

But now that was over, and Flevance would no longer be compartmentalised into a neat locked chest in the corner of his mind. Lami, his parents, his classmates and the rest had gone unavenged for far too long.

Perhaps Mugiwara-ya's insistence that they were allies for far longer than just defeating Kaido wasn't such a bad thing after all. Together, they could bring the World Government to its knees.

Law's pillow had dried, and he smoothed out the wrinkles the moisture had left with the grin of a satisfied predator on his face.

Yes, that sounded like a plan.

[hopesilverheart]

Title: I loved your colours (before I loved you) Artist: @calliartss​ Rating: Explicit (Chapter 10 only) Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Clary Fray, Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood Word Count: ~95k Summary: Magnus Bane is a journalist who's always dreamed of modelling for Lightwood Fashions. When the CEO Alec Lightwood starts looking for new models for their spring collection, he jumps on the occasion.

In the meantime, Alec Lightwood is struggling with the idea of finally announcing his role as co-designer. When Magnus Bane strolls into his life, Alec is torn between keeping his secret or throwing all caution to the wind.

This fic was created for the Malec Discord Mini Bang 2020.

Chapter 4: Wish I could get to know you

Alec was so busy dealing with business affairs and the first few sketches of the spring collection that he didn’t see his team of models again until two weeks after the selection. Even then, he had only stopped by his team’s floor to hang out with Clary. Running into the models was more of a coincidence than anything.

Not that he was going to complain, especially not when he spotted Magnus Bane standing shirtless in the middle of the room.

His mouth dried up instantly and whatever words he had been about to say died in his throat. Clary, who had walked into the room with him, shot him an amused and knowing glance but – thankfully – didn’t say anything embarrassing. She would tease him mercilessly for his reaction later, undoubtedly, but he could deal with that.

What he couldn’t deal with was a shirtless Magnus Bane. Because apparently, not only was the man beautiful, he was also sculpted like a God. Alec absolutely did not drool over his abs or his arms, but he wasn’t foolish enough to deny that the man cut an imposing figure. They had definitely made the right choice when they had hired him.

“Alec!”

The designer shook his head to get rid of the errant thoughts and turned towards Izzy. His sister was fully-dressed, which made sense since the seamstresses already had her measurements from past collections. Meliorn and Kaelie were in a similar state, though their eyes rove appreciatively over the other models’ bodies as Helen and her team set to work.

Alec could relate.

“You haven’t been down here in years, hermano,” Izzy pouted. “I thought you’d forgotten all about us models. You’ve been mostly absent too, Fray, don’t think I haven’t noticed. What is up with you two?”

“We’ve been busy with work, Izzy,” Alec rolled his eyes, heading straight for Clary’s office. “We don’t exactly have the time to stare at your measurement sessions or talk about who’s going to attend which photoshoot. I swear we’ll start spending more time with you once we’re all settled in and the collection is a little more set in stone. In the meantime, go have fun with your new friends.”

“Alec, please,” his sister whined. “Please stay with me for a while longer, I’m going crazy out here. My only ally is being poked with pins and needles, and everyone else is too busy with their own business to pay attention to me.”

“I’m sure if you talked to them, they wouldn’t mind having you around,” Alec huffed, though he let Izzy drag him towards one of the couches put out especially for the models anyways. He shrugged at Clary apologetically. “I’ll join you later, alright? You get to work on that thing we were talking about yesterday.”

“Thing?” Izzy’s eyebrows flew up and her eyes lit up excitedly. “What thing are you guys talking about? Does this have to do with the collection? Can I know about it? Oh Alec, please tell me this isn’t another top secret project you can’t tell me about, I think I’d go crazy.”

“It’s not a top secret project,” Alec sighed. “But it is for the collection, so I won’t be telling you about it until we’ve agreed on the details. Everything’s still a bit blurry right now, and inspiration isn’t coming to me as fast as I’d want it to. Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know once Clary and I figure things out. Or at least you’ll be the one to know the most about this collection outside of our actual team.”

“I’m part of your team!” Izzy exclaimed indignantly, gesturing at the rest of the room. “We all are!”

Alec barely refrained from rolling his eyes again. His sister knew exactly what he was talking about and was being purposefully obtuse. The thing was, he really wasn’t supposed to talk about the spring collection to anyone before it was being sown and truly created. It was a rule he and his team had come up with early on in their career, back when they had all been new and inexperienced.

He loved his sister, but he didn’t trust her to keep her mouth shut if someone were to ask her what she would be wearing to the next fashion show. As a journalist, it was in Izzy’s nature to speak first and think later.

Unbidden, his gaze strayed to Magnus. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was the same way, if he talked and talked and only considered his words later, once it was too late to take them back. Or maybe the other journalist was nothing like his sister. Maybe he was quieter, relying more on body language to express his opinions.

He certainly knew how to use his body, if the way he was flexing his arms was anything to go by. Alec couldn’t help himself from wondering what those muscles would feel like against him. Was Magnus strong enough to lift even someone as tall and muscular as Alec up? Was he strong enough to shove him against a wall and…?

“Earth to Alec,” his sister’s voice cut through his thoughts and Alec barely held back his rising blush. “Quit drooling over your newest employee and start focusing on me instead. I was asking you about your favourite model, but clearly I don’t have to ask.”

“What do you mean?” Alec asked innocently. His sister wasn’t fooled and they both knew it, but it hadn’t hurt to try. “Fine, maybe I was staring at Magnus a little bit more than I was at the other models, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” Izzy sing-songed. “Methinks my hermano has a bit of a crush on someone.”

“You think wrong,” Alec narrowed his eyes at her. “Look, just because I find him attractive doesn’t mean I have a crush on him. I don’t even know the man and, as you so nicely pointed out, he’s my employee.”

“So romantic,” Izzy sighed. “An office love story; everyone will go crazy about it. Don’t hold yourself back just because you’re afraid of the fallout. Magnus is a great guy, I’m sure the two of you would get along wonderfully. You need to start living every once in a while, Alec.”

“I live plenty,” he scoffed, though his eyes flickered back to Magnus as he spoke. “Just because I don’t go out every weekend doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have a fun time. Clary and I have weekly dates, and I see you whenever I want to, and my team takes me out once a month to make sure I mingle with strangers. I don’t need a boyfriend to make my life complete, hermana.”

“But it would make your life better, wouldn’t it?” Izzy raised her eyebrows at him.

Alec didn’t answer her, preferring to focus on the man they were talking about instead. For all that he acted like he wasn’t really interested, Alec found Magnus Bane absolutely fascinating. The man was both handsome and pretty, seemed to attract everyone in the room with a single smile, and had received nothing but positive comments from Alec’s colleagues.

The only people who hadn’t spent time with him yet were Clary and Alec, since they had been busy with other things. Alec wasn’t bitter about it, per se, since he really didn’t know the man, but he certainly wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. It had been such a long time since he last let himself feel anything for anyone other than his close friends and family, but there was something about Magnus Bane that made him want to open himself up again.

“Do you know if he’s single?” 

The words slipped past his lips before he could stop them, and he immediately found himself regretting them. Izzy’s eyes turned mischievous and eager, and Alec’s stomach was weighted down with dread. His sister was the last person he should have told about his interest in Magnus Bane, model and journalist extraordinaire. He would never hear the end of it, and he knew Isabelle wouldn’t stop until Magnus and he had gone on at least a date. 

Maybe even three. 

“I do, actually,” his sister said smugly. She didn’t expand on her answer and Alec clenched his jaw. He hated it when she made him repeat himself or make his question ‘clearer’. She knew exactly what he wanted to know but was going to stay silent until he reiterated his words. 

Not today. 

“Good for you,” he shrugged, smirking at Izzy’s disbelieving look. She had obviously thought he was going to cave and play into her hands. “Do you plan on asking him on a date, then?” 

“What?” His sister looked downright disgusted and Alec had to refrain from bursting into laughter. It would ruin his ploy and that was the last thing he wanted. “Of course not! Why on earth would I want to ask him out whilst simultaneously trying to set the two of you up?” 

The smirk on Alec’s face widened. He waited for a second, then another and, finally, realisation dawned on his little sister’s face. She slapped his arm playfully, huffing and puffing at him as she understood she had just been beaten at her own game. 

“He could still be dating someone,” she pouted. “Part of my plan might be to make him and his significant other break up.”

“Right, because that’s totally the type of thing you’d do,” Alec rolled his eyes. “You may be a bit pushy at times, hermana, but you’re not the kind of person who breaks couples up just to get me a date. I know you love me, but you’re not cruel enough to break Magnus’ heart just so I can steal it.” 

Before Izzy could say anything else, the seamstresses shooed Magnus away from them and the man headed straight for Izzy and Alec, a wide smile on his face. 

“Isabelle! I see you brought your handsome brother with you today,” he greeted them, winking at Alec. “Finally managed to drag him out of that office of his? The life of a CEO has to be dreadfully boring, darling, I can’t imagine how dull your days must get.” 

Alec snorted and, next to him, he could see Izzy’s lips curl into an amused smile. They both knew just how interesting his days could get in between business meetings with various fashion brands and media outlets and designing sessions with Clary. To Magnus, who didn’t know about Alec’s second role within the company, his job probably sounded like torture.

“It’s not too bad,” he eventually answered, not wanting to make Magnus feel like he was missing something. 

(He was, of course, but that was besides the point.) 

“Well I, for one, am glad you’re the one dealing with the higher-ups,” the model scrunched his face up adorably. “I don’t think I could make it through a meeting without losing my temper. Some people are just so ridiculously entitled, constantly looking for mistakes that aren’t there and unwilling to give people what they deserve as long as someone slides them just enough cash to keep them quiet.”

Alec bit his lip to stave off his laughter, wondering when Magnus would realise he was ranting about higher-ups to Alec, of all people. Not that Alec would ever do anything like what Magnus had just implied, but he had heard about CEOs and share-owners who deliberately screwed people over for a little bit of extra cash. It was horrific and not something Alec would even consider doing, but he knew some people lacked the moral values he prided himself in upholding. 

“I agree with Magnus,” Izzy piped up cheerfully, sending a sly glance in Alec’s direction. “I don’t know how people deal with CEOs and bosses and people who are in charge; they’re the absolute worst. What do you think, Alec? Do you have any issues with your boss?” 

Alec didn’t dignify her with an answer, wondering if it might be better for him to leave the two models alone. They seemed to be friendly enough and Magnus was available now, so Izzy wouldn’t need him to keep her company, but he had a feeling his sister would try to hold him back as soon as he took a single step away from them. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Izzy hissed under her breath, her smile never leaving her face. When she spoke again her voice was louder, clearly aimed at Magnus. “So Magnus, what do you think about the team? This is your first time seeing everyone in the same place, right? Not too chaotic for you? No regrets yet?” 

“Yet?” Magnus ventured, looking between the two of them suspiciously. “What have you guys been hiding from us? As far as I was aware, the most intimidating part of this job was having to deal with Alec Lightwood in the flesh, and I don’t find you that scary at all, darling.” 

“Um… Thank you?” Alec frowned, his last words coming out more like a question than a statement. He hadn’t even been aware people discussed him behind his back. “Where did you hear about this whole intimidation thing? I was under the impression that most of my employees liked me, not that they feared me.” 

“Oh, it’s just what the new ones mentioned,” Magnus waved his concerns away. Still, Alec glanced in the other models’ direction. He’d have to talk to them and make sure they weren’t afraid of him, since that was the last thing he wanted. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll realise you’re a wonderful human being as soon as they spend time with you.” 

“How would you know I’m a wonderful human being?” Alec asked, his eyebrows climbing up on his face. “You’ve barely even talked to me since your interview, and half that time was spent criticising me and my fellow higher-ups.” 

Instantly, Magnus blanched, his mouth opening and closing as though he was trying to think of a way to justify his earlier behaviour. Izzy shook her head at Alec exasperatedly, but the designer was too amused to stop Magnus’ incoming apology. He would make sure the man knew he hadn’t offended Alec at all, but he wasn’t about to pass up on the opportunity to see the beautiful and confident Magnus Bane stutter because of him.

“I- God, I am so sorry, I didn’t even think before saying that,” Magnus groaned. “My friends always tell me I lack a filter when I’m not on the job, and it seems I’ve finally managed to put my foot in my mouth in front of someone who matters. I really didn’t mean to insult you, the words just slipped out when you mentioned higher-ups because I had to deal with some real pieces of work at one of my old jobs, and well- I’m truly sorry, Mister Lightwood.”

Next to him, Isabelle mouthed ‘Mister Lightwood’ with a delighted grin on her face, and Alec grimaced at the moniker. Plenty of people addressed him that way, but it sounded completely wrong coming from Magnus, for some reason. Not that he didn’t know what that reason was; he just wasn’t sure he wanted to think about it when Magnus was right there.

“Please, call me Alec,” he insisted. “The only people who call me Mister Lightwood are the suck-ups, the execs, and the newbies who aren’t sure what to make of me yet. You’re on the team for the collection, which means we’ll be seeing a lot of each other around, so the least I can do is allow you to call me by my first name.”

“Right, because you definitely gave permission to everyone else,” Izzy snickered, avoiding a nudge in the ribs expertly and sauntering away from them, waggling her eyebrows at Alec as she left. “Just saying, big brother!”

Alec determinedly ignored the dark flush on his cheeks as he turned back towards Magnus with a sheepish smile. It was true that he hadn’t actually told the other models to call him Alec yet, but that was mostly because he hadn’t gotten to spend time with them. He’d have to make sure they knew they were more than welcome to treat him a little less formally than they undoubtedly thought they should.

“So…” He started lamely, cursing himself internally for his lack of social skills when it came to beautiful men. “You and Izzy seem to really get along. How long have the two of you been working together, if you don’t mind me asking? I’ve never met you before, not even at her ridiculous parties and bar nights, which means you only recently became close to her, right?”

“Right,” Magnus nodded, something like uncertainty flashing in his eyes. “I’ve been on the media side of things for a while, but I was only very recently promoted, and I stayed in the background before that. And then I started modelling as well, and Isabelle was the only face I really recognised, so I jumped on the chance to spend time with a colleague I knew I shared interests with.”

“Smart of you,” Alec said, not sure what else he was supposed to say about the friendship between his sister and this man whom he was incredibly attracted to. “And everyone else? They’ve been treating you alright? I mean, I know my team is professional and I care about all of them a lot, but I just want to make sure everything is running smoothly on your end, since I would hate to find out you’ve been dealing with some harassment issues or other unpleasant things like that.”

“I assure you, everything has been going perfectly well,” Magnus answered, smiling at Alec so warmly that it was a wonder his heart didn’t melt on the spot. “I’m looking forward to seeing the wonderful collection Miss Fray- Clary, I mean, put together with her partner, and I get along fine with everyone here. You’ve created a very pleasant working space here, Alec.”

“I try my best,” Alec shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck as he so often did when he wasn’t sure how to handle a compliment. Hearing about how much people liked his collections and colour choices was one thing; having people directly tell him he was doing an amazing job was another. “But my team is a huge part of it too. I couldn’t do all of this without them, especially Clary, and my efforts would be for naught if they didn’t work just as hard as I try to.”

“Modest too,” Magnus sighed. “Is there anything wrong with you, Alec, or will I just have to lament over your perfection with a kindred spirit?

“I mean- I-” Alec hadn’t thought he could get any redder, but he was clearly being proven wrong. Thankfully, that was when Clary decided to poke her head out of her office and gesture for him to come join her. Alec pounced on the chance to get away from Magnus and his ability to make Alec completely lose control over his own body. “Right! I have to go. Clary needs me for, um, for work things, so I should- I should really get going before she comes over and drags me there herself.”

“Of course, Alec,” Magnus chuckled, amusement dancing in those beautiful honey-gold eyes of his. “You go do that. I’ll have to catch up with our lovely designer later and tell her off for stealing you away from me, but I wouldn’t want to stop you from doing your job.”

Alec nodded, then proceeded to stare at Magnus for another few embarrassing seconds before realising what he was doing and turning around abruptly. God, why had Izzy brought his dating life and his attraction to Magnus up? He would have been able to ignore it if she hadn’t pushed him in this direction, but now all he could think about was how gorgeous and funny and kind Magnus was, and how much Alec wanted to explore this possibility that had cropped up between the two of them.

He couldn’t be doing that, not when he had an entire collection to plan out and thousands of other things to take care of. A relationship would only make his life harder.

And yet, a part of him wanted to take all the hardships that would come from such a relationship, because something told him Magnus was special and that, at the end of the day, he would be worth every long night and difficulty and obstacle their relationship would throw Alec’s way.

But he couldn’t think about that yet, not when he hadn’t even asked the man out, and not when he was about to go into a semi-serious meeting with Clary. Magnus Bane was truly something else, but he could wait a while longer.

And Alec’s heart could wait a while longer too.

***

“Waiting for my brother?”

Magnus’ gaze snapped up and immediately landed on Isabelle, who was standing in front of his chair with a questioning look in her eyes. Magnus frowned momentarily, wondering why she thought he would be waiting for Alec in front of Clary’s office, but then remembered something about the two friends spending all of their time together. He hadn’t considered that before standing guard in front of the office like an overeager employee – or a stalker, but he rather preferred the first phrasing.

“No, actually, I’m waiting for Clary,” Magnus answered. “I hadn’t even thought about Alec and where he might be, but I’m pretty sure he left this floor hours ago, so I don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Why would you be worried?” Isabelle asked, smirking teasingly. “I was under the impression that you quite liked his company, slight social blunders and all. I swear, the two of you had sparks flying throughout the entire floor when you were talking earlier.”

“Now that is a gross over-exaggeration,” Magnus snorted. “I’ll admit Alec and I seem to have some sort of chemistry, but I’m not even sure he’s gay or interested, and he’s also my boss, in case that escaped your notice. I have a feeling I would be stepping over a hundred boundaries by asking him out or letting him woo me, and no, I’m not being dramatic.”

“Oh, but you are,” Isabelle chuckled. “I swear, you and Alec even use the same excuses. He seems to be worried about HR, which I can sort of understand, but your contract here is temporary, whereas the one you have with Lightwood Media will be permanent sooner rather than later. You’ll have to deal with their HR team, whilst Alec deals with the one over here, meaning you have nothing to worry about. You don’t technically work for the same company.”

“Except whilst I’m modelling here,” Magnus reminded her, raising his eyebrows. He thought his reasoning would be solid and Isabelle would let it go, but it looked like she was a lot more stubborn than Magnus had thought she would be. “Look, if something happens, I won’t push it away, but I’m not about to make the first move. Your brother seems to be a very busy and important man, and I have other things to worry about than a new relationship or flirtation with an impossibly attractive CEO.”

“Sure you do,” Isabelle grumbled, though she thankfully let the topic go – for now, Magnus’ mind supplied. He didn’t doubt that she would start needling him about Alec again the next day, and the one after that, and so on until he finally caved. “Now, why did you want to talk to Clary? I mean, no offence, but Raphael told me you were so panicked about meeting her the other day that you just stared at the building for a full five minutes, so I didn’t think you would actively try to talk to her.”

“That traitor,” Magnus gasped dramatically. “Betraying me at every turn, I swear. And for your information, I was rationally nervous about meeting someone I admired for a job interview, nothing more. I’m more than capable of talking to her now that this job is firmly mine, believe me. As for why I want to see her, well… I talked to Alec earlier, it’s only fair I talk to my other boss, the one who actually has a say in the collection and is going to be dressing me up like a living doll.”

“Right,” Isabelle said, her mouth opening before she snapped it shut, a small frown making its way onto her face. “Well, I hope she has the answers to whatever questions you might have for her. Let me warn you, though, she’s not innocent as she seems, and I’m speaking from experience here.”

“Oh yes,” Magnus grinned. “I’ve heard all about the little ‘rivalry’ going on between Clary and you, but I also have it under good authority – yours, need I remind you – that the animosity between the two of you is mostly for show. However, I’ll heed your warning and make sure not to flirt with her too aggressively. Wouldn’t want to steal her away from you, after all.”

“I- Clary and I aren’t dating, Magnus, you know this,” Isabelle sniffed haughtily, probably trying to hide that delightful Lightwood blush that seemed to run in the family. “But yes, please refrain from flirting. I wouldn’t want you to ruin your chances with my brother by trying to seduce his best friend. Anyways, gotta run, but I expect to hear all about this undoubtedly titillating conversation later, maybe over drinks?”

“Sounds like a party to me,” Magnus winked at her, sighing contentedly as he watched her leave.

Isabelle Lightwood was truly a force to be reckoned with, and her little intervention had done wonders for his nerves. As much as he had claimed to be completely okay with meeting Clary Fray again, Magnus had to admit he had been feeling a little jittery before Isabelle had shown up. However, there was something about the brunette that made him feel comfortable and welcome, and he couldn’t even remember why he had been nervous in the first place.

Anyone who had caught Isabelle’s attention couldn’t be anything other than kind, and Magnus knew exactly how interested Isabelle was in Clary, whether they were dating or not.

“Magnus?”

Unlike Isabelle, who had sounded teasing and confident when she had addressed him, Clary’s voice was soft and inquisitive, and Magnus could immediately see the resemblance between Alec and her. Whether they knew it or not, they had clearly picked up on a few things from each other, and it was rather endearing.

“Clary! Um, good evening! Is it alright if I call you Clary? I mean, Alec gave me permission to use his first name, but maybe you’re the type who sticks to the formalities within the workplace…” Right, not nervous at all. He had handled himself better in front of Alec, and he was someone Magnus was actually attracted to. Maybe he had underestimated how nervous he would be to spend time with someone he had idolised for quite a while.

“Clary is just fine,” the redhead giggled, locking her office door behind her and walking towards the elevator, glancing over her shoulder at Magnus when he stayed frozen in pace. “I’m sorry, I assumed you were here to see me, but are you waiting for someone else? There aren’t a lot of employees milling around at this time, I’m afraid to say, but I’m sure I could contact whoever you’re looking for-”

“Ah, no, I was definitely waiting for you,” Magnus cleared his throat with an awkward chuckle. “I’m sorry, I’m usually a lot better at talking to people, but I’ll admit that I’ve always loved your work and am still in awe that I’m working for you now. Your partner and you have done truly wonderful things, and your support for the LGBTQ+ community is admirable, and I just really wanted you to know that.”

“Oh,” Clary blushed, biting at her bottom lip as though she were completely unused to receiving compliments about her hard work. “Thank you, but you really don’t need to be intimidated by me because of my collections. I swear I’m just as much of a disaster as everyone else is in real life, if not more so. I just happen to have landed a sweet, sweet job thanks to my best friend who believed in me more than I believed in myself. But still, thank you, I’m glad I was able to give you something and someone to look up to, no matter how strange it is to hear that I am somehow a role model.”

“Well, you and your partner,” Magnus pointed out, trying to be subtle about his curiosity but probably failing miserably, if the way Clary’s mouth curled upwards was anything to go by. “I don’t suppose we’ll get to meet them anytime soon? Raphael told me they were rather secretive, but I have to admit I thought they would at least meet with the models.”

“What can I say,” Clary shrugged, frowning slightly. “They’re busy with other things. And even if you don’t see them around, that doesn’t mean they haven’t come around here to check you guys out. I swear, they’re serious about this, and wonderful at their job. They just happen to like being in the dark rather than thrown in the spotlight.”

“Leaving all the hard work to you, then?” Magnus joked. He would have pushed more, but it was clear to him that his questions weren’t welcome, or at least wouldn’t be for much longer. “Dealing with journalists and fans and all that alone can’t be easy.”

“I’m not alone,” Clary said easily, stepping out of the elevator as it reached the ground floor and smiling softly in Magnus’ direction. “I have Alec. Partner or no, I’ll always have my best friend at my side, dealing with just as much – if not more – shit than me, so I don’t mind too much. Besides, they do plenty of work in the background, whether people see it or not. They’re not called the colour genius for nothing, you know?”

“Right,” Magnus nodded excitedly. Honestly, as good as Clary was, the mystery behind her partner made them even more interesting.

Magnus had tried to look into them before, in the hopes of scoring a great article. He had been younger and had foolishly forgotten that people who wanted to keep their identity a secret were usually very good with what they said and did. There had been nothing to find, no lead to follow and, although Magnus had been frustrated at the time, he couldn’t help but think it was better this way.

If he had exposed Clary’s co-designer all those years ago, there was no way he would have been hired as a model for the Lightwoods, and he would still be stuck underneath Lorenzo’s rule. Besides, now that he was inside the company, he was confident that he would crack the mystery soon enough. He was great at his job as a reporter, and the partner wouldn’t be able to stay hidden forever.

And this time, if he found them out, he wouldn’t even think about writing an article. There was something thrilling about the idea of being one of very few who knew this person’s true identity. And yes, he knew good things came to those who waited, but Magnus had never been a patient man, and he wasn’t about to change when he was so close to achieving one of his life goals.

“So, do you guys share the work evenly?” Magnus asked, deciding he might as well make the most of the few minutes he had left with the designer he admired so much. “I know they take care of the colours, which means you probably take care of the fabrics, and maybe even the artistic side of things, like drawings and sketches and all that? I mean, not to seem like a stalker, but I read that you went to school for a slightly more classical art degree a few years ago, so…”

“Yeah,” Clary said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. There was something wonderful about hearing people talk about their passion, since it always made them light up and radiate happiness. Magnus wondered if he looked the same way when he talked about the things he loved. “I thought I was going to become a ‘real’ artist like my mom, since that was the only dream I’d ever had. And then I met Alec whilst he was studying for his business degree. We became fast friends, bonded over our shared interests and, soon enough, he was asking me to work for him. I didn’t even have my degree yet, still had two semesters to complete, but he made sure I could work and simultaneously finish my college education, and I’ve been by his side ever since.”

“That sounds like a beautiful friendship,” Magnus said, finding Alec Lightwood more and more tempting by the minute. A beautiful man who also had a heart of gold and cared about his friends more than he cared about the approval of his superiors? People like that weren’t exactly populating the entirety of New York. “I have a best friend like that; she got me out of trouble, still does, and I know she’ll always be there for me. I’m even her daughter’s godfather.”

“That’s sweet,” Clary smiled. “If Alec doesn’t make me his first child’s godmother, I’m going to throw a fit. I know Isabelle is his sister, but I’m pretty sure I deserve it more than her, since I’ve seen him at his lowest in a way she never has. I mean, she would probably be a great aunt, but I will fight for that first child even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Magnus burst out laughing at the redhead’s enthusiasm. Isabelle had been right; there was nothing threatening about Clary Fray at all. And he could easily understand why the brunette had a crush on the energetic and kind woman; just like Alec Lightwood, Magnus was willing to bet there weren’t a lot of Clary Frays out there. Some people were just different, and it seemed he had found two for the price of a single job.

“I’m sure Alec will agree to giving you custody of the child in case of his death,” Magnus said as seriously as he could manage. “Especially if you already live with Isabelle by then, which I hear is practically a given at this point. I mean- Sorry if I’m overstepping, but the rumours within the office aren’t exactly kept quiet. I learned about the bet going on over yours and Isabelle’s relationship as soon as I stepped into the building on my first day here.”

“Right, that betting pool,” Clary rolled her eyes, though Magnus could see the hints of a fond smile curling at her lips. “And I don’t know. I’m not sure I feel completely comfortable talking to you about this, since I have a feeling you’re just as much of a matchmaker as Isabelle herself is. I would probably find myself stuck in an improbable situation with her in less than a day if I were to tell you about our relationship. Not that our relationship is anything other than a sort-of friends, mostly enemies sort of thing. Alec would try to tell you otherwise, but don’t listen to him. He’s a firm believer in true love, and absolutely believed that his sister and I are soulmates of some sort. It’s ridiculous.”

“Wait a second,” Magnus gaped, stopping just outside of the Lightwood building and shivering slightly as the cold winter air hit his neck. “Are you telling me that Alec Lightwood, impassive and stern CEO of one of the biggest companies in the country, is secretly a hopeless romantic?”

“Not so secretly,” Clary chuckled, shaking her head fondly. “It’s a Lightwood family trait, not that they’ll ever admit it. Alec is a firm believer in love at first sight and all that nonsense, Isabelle cries every time a proposal happens, and Jace could wax poetry about his boyfriend for hours if we let him. I don’t know about their youngest sibling, since he hasn’t quite hit the end of his teenage years yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out the same way.”

“Well, well,” Magnus said softly, thinking about the Alec he had met that morning. Now that Clary mentioned it, he did seem like the type to have a cold exterior but a warm and fuzzy interior. “Colour me impressed. Actually, no, let’s not talk about colour in the same sentence as Alec. I’m sorry but, for all that everything else about him is rather beautiful, your best friend’s fashion sense is atrocious.”

Strangely enough, his words made Clary burst into giggles. The redhead shook her head at Magnus, and he could only frown as he wondered what he had said that was so funny.

“I’m sorry,” Clary waved a hand at him as she tried to get herself under control. “I swear you didn’t say anything that warranted that reaction, it’s just… Well, Alec doesn’t really care about what he wears, and a lot of people comment on how strange it is that he’s running a fashion company, but I swear he’s actually got a great eye when it comes to my collection, on top of being good at managing the business side of things.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that one,” Magnus snorted, thinking about the plain clothes Alec had worn both times he had seen him. Black suits, black shirts, nothing fancy at all. The fabrics had been good, but Magnus had a thing for colours, and Alec Lightwood clearly didn’t. “But speaking of, why did he decide to take over the fashion side of things? Almost everyone in the media world thought Isabelle would work in the fashion department whilst Alec followed in his mother’s footsteps, so why mix things up? No offence, but Isabelle has a certain amount of flair to her style that Alec doesn’t.”

“Hmm, but appearances can be deceiving,” Clary shrugged. “Isabelle always wanted to become a journalist, even though she loves modelling, and Alec wasn’t really interested in reporting and all of that, so the decision was an easy one to make. He gets to stay in his office most of the time, being a better CEO than Isabelle could be at this point in time, and she gets to write whatever she wants for her mother.”

Magnus hummed thoughtfully. It made sense, he supposed; Isabelle did appear to be a wonderful journalist, from what he had seen in the few days they had been working together. And Alec… Well, Magnus didn’t know much about the slightly awkward, slightly cold, very handsome man, but he had to admit that Alec was doing a great job with Lightwood Fashions. The company had never thrived more.

“Alright, well, thank you for answering all of my nosy questions about the Lightwoods,” Magnus said, smiling at Clary. “I know we haven’t really talked since I was hired, but I hope we’ll get to see more of each other in the future.”

“Oh, we definitely will,” Clary grinned, although the expression almost came off as more of a grimace. “Designers tend to be thrown around and asked for opinions all the time when production and creation and photoshoots start, so I’m going to be running around your life in the next few months. I hope you’re ready for a healthy dose of Fray, because there’ll be no way for you to avoid me.”

“I look forward to it,” Magnus smiled, turning around as Clary waved at him and headed to the left, in the opposite direction to where Magnus was heading.

As he watched her leave, he couldn’t help but think that he had truly found his place in the world at Lightwood Fashions. He had made friends with almost all the models, had found a good group of colleagues on the media side of things, had an amazing dynamic with Isabelle, was on speaking terms with Clary freaking Fray, and got to admire his very attractive boss every time the man stopped by the main modelling floor.

All in all, he had a feeling the next few months were going to be both hectic and absolutely wonderful.

[stilitana]

so i listened to this embarassingly quickly but let’s chalk that up to the self-isolation/working from home and leave it at that

wolf 359 reactions under the cut (spoilers):

firstly, that soundtrack was so good and i’ll be listening to those piano pieces forever

this show demonstrated the eternal power of the agatha christie principle: gather a ragtag cast of characters who’ve all got beef with each other, and trap them in a small space together. cue the instant tension and inevitable weighty revelations.

i adore that amid all the drama/action, there were so many moments when the writers let the narrative breathe a little and just allowed the characters to talk to each other, and play games with one another. the word games were delicious. these were often moments of levity and good character building, but they also all moved relationships forward or revealed something new, so don’t ever let anybody say that having chill little funny moments is useless narrative fluff. these were the best moments.

empty man cometh might be my favorite. am i alone now? and memoria were also just...so good. a lot of the mini-episodes were excellent as well, especially all the character ones. variations on a theme might be my favorite of the shorts.

normally i’m impatient and skip anything i perceive as extraneous to the central narrative, and come back to it later--im so glad i didn’t, the live episode was hilarious. ashamed that i even tried to skip change of mind because i was so impatient to see what was happening, but i felt too bad so not even five minutes into the next ep, i went back and listened to it, and that was the right move...it was so good.

every single character was fantastic. every single one. they were all complex--even the less central characters had at least a moment or two where they struck a different note, showed another side of themselves. kepler was the stand out on this front for me. i didn’t care at all about the si-5 crew when they first came in--i was actually annoyed and expected to hate them all, which is a risk you run when you introduce a bunch of new, influential characters so late in a story. they made it work so well. first i came around to maxwell, then jacobi, and finally (tbh it was his swan song) i was like, okay, kepler was a great character. they made him sympathetic without trying to retcon anything to force me to pity him or think he’d been good all along or anything. cutter and pryce were less human, so their redeeming qualities came more from being interesting. i think the voice acting plays a lot into this--cutter just on paper wouldn’t be half as fun

really impressed with how this same thing played out with lovelace--she went from this sort of mythic, predeceased character, to an antagonist, and finally to being such a central character to the crew that you could hardly imagine them without her. poor writing could have easily made her kind of character unlikable. i think characters like her often get short-changed and written as one-note action hero types who crash in and upend the narrative just to give the plot steam and provide friction. instead, she’s as fully fleshed out as the main characters, and seamlessly becomes one of them.

rip plant monster...i loved you :,(

so, the antagonists were multifaceted, and so were the protags. this could have also easily been sloppy. with eiffel especially, lazy writing would have made the reveal of his backstory super cheap, out of left field, and made you feel like you never knew him at all and leave you unable to reconnect. instead of going the route where the writer for some reason thinks they have to make their plucky protag gritty, the reveal of eiffel’s backstory doesn’t change him at all--and why should it? it’s his backstory--it already happened. instead, it only forces him and minkowski to have conversations they probably needed to have anyway, and fleshes out the reason he’s even there in the first place. on this note, it’s not ultimately his backstory that eiffel has to confront within the story as a major flaw--the backstory was a mistake in the past he’s been dealing with for years by the time we meet him. i love what they chose to do instead so much more: what he had to deal with was his current, present day behavior--how he effortlessly disrespects and belittles the people closest to him without even trying. the key there is, without trying--he has to make a decision to start. (”that’s the thing about you, eiffel--you try. you try really, really hard, and then--you stop trying” that was such a good interaction...god.) i could go on and on about how this was such a satisfying tack to take but i’m trying to cut it down. glib bastards like eiffel are so often a sort of male wish-fulfillment character where they get to say whatever the fuck they want without consequence, be lazy, be careless, and still come out on top, and still seem lovable, because hey, he’s funny. eiffel doesn’t get off that easily, and he’s a much better character for it, and so are all the others, for actually demanding better for themselves, because they know they deserve it, and because they all actually care about each other, so when they confront him, he doesn’t just shrug it off--he tries. (it takes him a minute. but he tries.)

hera broke my heart a million times i love her so much. she had so many complex inner conflicts that weren’t just boiled down to some dumbass bs like “boo hoo am i human.” her personhood is a given for the sorts of conflicts she has, as far as feeling inadequate, feeling unappreciated, like an imposter or a less-valued member of the crew. her and minkowski arguing was excellent and allowed them both a chance to be childish because hey, eiffel shouldn’t have the monopoly on that.

death was a serious thing. human life was highly valued, and its loss was never made light of. not even for antagonists (kepler, hilbert) or, in the most extreme case, pryce, who eiffel chose to make a sacrifice to defeat rather than just kill her, the one principle aside from doing as little work as possible he stood his ground on the entire story. team what’s wrong with handcuffs indeed...i just really loved that the main lead was a pacifist and that this line of thinking held sway in the narrative. it was really refreshing (i don’t think it should be--there’s just a lot of bad writing out there especially when things edge into the action genre) to see this stance on nonviolent conflict resolution wherever possible, because yeah, most people have a really hard time ending another person’s life...no shit. minkowski makes that call and deals with the fallout for the rest of the show--she’s not done dealing with it by the end, it’s going to be something she takes with her. sometimes eiffel’s passivity was depicted as a weakness, but he ultimately did diffuse a lot of situations and gave other characters the space to consider their options. i do think that sometimes the narrative’s insistence on eiffel’s dual pacifism/incompetence shifted the burden of action onto minkowski and lovelace and i’m not sure how i feel about that. i think where i’d have to look is comparing how pryce and cutter are dealt with--yeah, im willing to buy that minkowski wasn’t willing to trade all of her memories so that she wouldn’t have to kill cutter. but was she the one who had to have a body count as a conscious narrative choice, or were we just determined to maintain eiffel’s status as the sort of goofy, “innocent” one? or was that something minkowski was determined to preserve--because that’d be really sad and complicated and say way more about her than it would about him.

dear listeners. i loved everything about the dear listeners. it was everything i ever wanted from aliens trope-wise.

didn’t really get the total significance of surrogates or decima virus. those were the only two things that felt sort of hasty because the stakes suddenly went from “the lives on this space station” to “life on earth as we know it.” but apocalypse averted so whatever, the aliens just want music

i am conflicted about the fucking. amnesia. memory was SO important throughout, and questions of identity and personhood, and this is the only reason that amnesia ending didn’t enrage me. if i think about it more i’m sure there will be a lot to unpack with what’s being implied here

this has gotten REALLY long so im going to stop now and finish mindlessly entering data into excel. in short: i loved it